


Walk the Line

by canarian



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 79,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canarian/pseuds/canarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Blaine, who is 4 years older than Kurt and fresh out of college, comes to teach at McKinley. When Schue gets fired, Kurt asks Blaine to coach New Directions, but things get complicated when they discover their mutual attraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Did you guys hear about Mr. Schue?" Rachel asks racing into the choir room looking frantic.

"Did he finally lose his hair under the weight of all that product?" Santana asks, smirking at Brittany.

"Please tell me Miss Pillsbury finally got him to ditch the plaid shirt/tweed tie combo. It's a crime against fashion," Kurt says.

"No," Rachel says with a glare at her friends. "This is _serious_ ," she adds, pausing for dramatic effect, eyes wide. When she is sure everyone's eyes are on her, she continues. "Figgins fired him."

"So he _is_ the father of Coach Sylvester's baby?" Puck asks looking shocked.

"What?" Rachel asks, incredulous. "No, Puck, it had something to do with an inappropriate attachment to his students. Something about the district cracking down on teacher-student relationships." Rachel looks a little sad, and also maybe a little guilty, as if she worries she might accidentally have let something slip. Her mind flashes back to a tearful declaration in Figgins' office sophomore year.

"Well, he did ask me to be his best man," Finn says. "And he was always hugging us and crying and stuff."

"You guys are missing the big picture here," Rachel says.

"Rachel's right," Mercedes says, looking serious. "Who's going to take over glee club?"

The group shares a few looks before the arguing starts. Over the din, Artie shouts, "Aw, hell no! I am _not_ going to be in the Rachel Berry showcase, y'all."

Everyone quiets for a moment and looks at Rachel. She's smiling nervously and opens her mouth to speak again when a seldom-heard voice from the back of the room catches everyone's attention.

"Look, we just need to find another teacher to sponsor us," Tina says. "Let's make a list of the teachers who actually _like_ glee and see if one of them wants to help out."

"Maybe Figgins has already hired someone new," Sam says, finally looking like he's not bored to death for once.

"No, I asked," Rachel replies, assuming her self-imposed leadership role again. "If we don't have a new teacher to sponsor us by the end of the week, we can't compete."

"Damn," Merecedes says, shaking her head. "That's not much time."

"So let's get to work," Quinn interjects, a look of annoyance flashing across her face. She walks to the front of the room like Mr. Schuester had done so many times and writes "Teachers who don't hate us" on the white board. She turns and smiles at her fellow glee clubbers. "Any ideas?"

By the end of the class period, they have five names on the board: Señor Martinez, Miss Pillsbury, Miss Holiday, Coach Bieste and the new English teacher, added at the last minute because Kurt figures a new teacher might be easier to sway than one who knows how much time goes into coaching New Directions. Because it's his idea (Rachel says) and because he has the new teacher for AP English (Finn points out), Kurt gets assigned to approaching him/her.

No one's really sure who the new teacher is yet. Everyone else has a teacher who had been at McKinley the previous year. But the rumor mill was already churning on the first day of school, and word is there's a hot new English teacher hired to take the place of Mrs. Spitzer, who had retired last year. No one seemed to bother with the minor detail if "hot" meant male or female. No one seemed to remember who had started the rumor, so information was pretty scant.

However, when Kurt's schedule got flipped around that morning to accommodate glee, he noticed a cryptic addition to his courseload. At the top of his schedule, it says 1st period: AP English, room 265. There's no teacher listed. Kurt has landed the new teacher. He secretly hopes that whoever started the rumor is either a straight girl, or a closeted gay. He wouldn't mind some eye candy to keep him awake in first period.

The rest of the teachers on the list are all ones the group knows, so they divvy out assignments based on who knows them the best. Rachel offers to ask Miss Pillsbury because she has an appointment with the guidance counselor after first period. Finn promises to talk to Coach Bieste after football practice.

Artie enthusiastically volunteers to hunt down Miss Holiday (he actually says "I'll take the shawty. She can't resist my swagger," which earns him a high-five from Sam).

Mercedes insists that Santana talk to Señor Martinez. When the yelling (in Spanish … about how stereotypes are holding back the entire Latino community) dies down, Mercedes explains that Señor Martinez forces all his students to speak Spanish and she's the only one fluent. Santana says she sees the other girl's point and reluctantly agrees.

Rachel tells the rest of the choir to make sure they talk up glee club at every opportunity. That earns her a few more eye rolls. Rachel simply shrugs and offers an explanation.

"No sense in letting our credibility slide just because we're leaderless. If we want to recruit new members, we're going to have to work on our social standing."

"Good luck with that," Quinn say under her breath as she stands up to leave. "Since when has glee club had any credibility around this place?"

"Since about half past never," Mercedes replies as the rest of them shuffle out of the choir room and head home for the day.

Kurt is just about to his car when he hears Finn call out. Kurt turns to see his stepbrother jogging across the parking lot toward him. When he stops within a few feet of Kurt, he's already a little out of breath. Kurt wonders, not for the first time, how he manages to make the football team every year being in such poor shape.

"Will you tell mom and Burt that I'll be a little late?" Finn asks, trying to catch his breath. "Rachel wants me to help her pick out some sheet music and stuff for our first duet."

Kurt offers a terse, "sure," and watches as Finn grins and runs back in the direction he came. That's when Kurt notices him — the most gorgeous creature he's ever laid eyes on — stumbling unceremoniously out of the door after nearly getting floored by Finn's gigantic frame. He has a messenger bag across his body. It looks well-worn, but not worn out by any means. His hair is gelled back in a style that makes Mr. Schue's level of product use look scant in comparison. Kurt is willing to overlook that minor faux pas because he's wearing a gorgeous silk bow tie with a crisp red button-up shirt and an absolutely gorgeous grey cardigan that Kurt had been envying that very morning on the Barneys website.

Sure all of that catches Kurt's eye, but it's his smile that really takes Kurt's breath away. From where Kurt's standing, Finn seems to be bumbling through some sort of apology, but the gigantic smile hasn't left his victim's face the entire time. His eyes are crinkled up a bit and he's laughing, either at what Finn is saying or maybe just _at_ Finn. Either is entirely possible.

Without thinking, Kurt steps forward until he can hear the conversation.

"No really," Finn stutters. "My fault."

"It's okay," Gorgeous Smile says. "Like I said, I should watch where I'm going."

"Is my bumbling idiot of a brother bothering you?" Kurt asks, sounding much more breathy than he intended.

Gorgeous Smile turns toward the sound of Kurt's voice. And oh my god his eyes. Kurt is sure his heart can be heard from the other end of the school with the way it is thudding in his chest. This guy has the most gorgeous, expressive and curiously tea-colored eyes that just happened to be framed by impossibly thick eyelashes.

"No, no..." he says. "We were just getting acquainted, and I was telling Finn here that I need to watch where I'm going. He insisted it was his fault."

"Well, he's not the most coordinated of people," Kurt teases, unable to look away from those gorgeous hazel eyes. "But he means well."

"As evidenced by his propensity for apologies," Gorgeous Smile says, laughing.

"Propensa—what?" Finn asks doing a very convincing imitation of a guppy.

Kurt starts laughing at that, and Finn looks even more lost than before. "Nevermind," he huffs out between laughs. "Don't you have to go meet Rachel?"

"Oh shit!" Finn blurts. "I gotta go."

Kurt watches the taller boy take off through the double doors and turns back to Gorgeous Smile.

"Sorry about that," Kurt says. "Finn's kind of …"

"Tall?"

"Yeah, that too," Kurt laughs. He pauses and holds out his hand in greeting. "Kurt Hummel."

"Bla– Um, Mr. Anderson," he replies shaking Kurt's hand.

"You're a teacher," Kurt gasps, eyes wide.

"Yep," Mr. Anderson says. "English, the occasional drama class…the usual."

"I, uh…think I have your class first period," Kurt stammers. "Do you teach AP?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he says smiling. "You must be smart if you're in AP English."

"Well," Kurt says preening a little under the praise. "Compared to some of the Neanderthals in this place."

That earns him another laugh from Mr. Anderson, and Kurt smiles dopily back at him.

"Guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow then, Mr. Hummel."

"Bright and early," Kurt says, instantly regretting the cheesy line and the flirty way it comes out.

"Bye," Mr. Anderson says as he walks past Kurt and into the parking lot. Kurt's eyes follow him until he's no longer visible among the sea of cars. It's only then that he notices he's been holding his breath. He lets it out in a shaky sigh and takes his phone out of his pocket.

To Mercedes  
 _OMG! The new English teacher is gorgeous!_

* * *

Kurt may or may not get to school a little earlier than normal the next morning. But if he does it's only because it's easier to find parking that way and he can avoid the jocks who for some reason still insist on yelling things like "hey homo" and "sup fairy?" at Kurt as he passes.

If anything, _that's_ why Kurt _might_ be seated at the front of room 265, 10 minutes before the bell rings, sipping a cup of coffee, legs crossed to perfectly display his new boots, and replying to a text message from Rachel about glee rehearsal.

Rachel  
 _Don't forget to ask the new teacher about glee club! :)_

Kurt  
 _It's too early for exclamations and emoticons._

Rachel  
 _This is important._

Kurt  
 _On it._

Rachel  
 _:)_

Kurt is about to reply to Rachel's text with a snarky comeback about smiley faces being immature and not to mention, downright tacky, when he hears humming coming from the hallway. He looks up just in time to see Mr. Anderson walking through the doorway. His tattered bag from the day before is slung across his body and he's balancing a gigantic cup of coffee along with a stack of folders, books, and paperwork in his arms. Kurt wonders briefly why he didn't put all of that in his bag, before his thoughts are interrupted.

"Good morning," Mr. Anderson says, beaming. "Kurt, right?"

"In the flesh," Kurt replies, returning the smile shyly. "Need any help?" Kurt uncrosses his legs and starts to stand before Mr. Anderson stops him.

"I've got it, thanks," he says, laying the stack of papers and books on a desk at the front of the room. He adds his coffee cup to the now cluttered desk and turns to face Kurt. And wow, his clothing is insanely adorable. How on earth does a grown man manage to pull off a bowtie _and_ high waters?

"As punctual as you are polite, I see."

"Well, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something," Kurt says tentatively.

"Shoot," Mr. Anderson says, leaning back on his desk and crossing his arms in a way that Kurt shouldn't find at all seductive. Kurt takes a deep breath before he continues.

"Well, it's about glee club…our teacher, Mr. Schuester? He got fired last week, and Principal Figgins says if we don't find a new sponsor by the end of the week, we have to disband." Kurt pauses, taking another deep breath because he knows he's kind of rambling, but damn it's hard to concentrate when someone looks at you like they're hanging on every word you say. Bright hazel eyes stare back at him expectantly and it's so distracting that Kurt has to look away before he can continue.

_Seriously, what is he, a Disney prince or something?_

"I don't suppose you have any experience with show choir," Kurt continues hesitantly.

Mr. Anderson works his mouth as if he's having difficulty forming words, and Kurt finds it incredibly endearing.

"I mean, it's okay if you don't," Kurt says. "We really just need someone to show up for rehearsal and to be our chaperone for competitions. You don't even have to choreograph or anything."

"Actually," he says, interrupting Kurt's rambling. "I was kind of the lead singer of my prep school's a cappella group, The Warblers."

He rubs the back of his neck as he talks, and when he looks up at Kurt, he sees the boy is beaming back at him, eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights.

"Oh my god, that's so perfect," Kurt gushes. "You _have_ to do it."

"Kurt…" he begins.

"Well, I mean you don't _have_ to," he says. "It's just….well, we really need a sponsor, and you're perfect. I mean you'd _be_ perfect … for the job, I mean. We went up against the Warblers last year, and New Directions could really use some discipline." Kurt is positively blushing. He can feel his skin burning with embarrassment, but he just cannot stop talking.

"Kurt," Mr. Anderson tries again.

"Oh, wait until I tell Rachel. It's going to be like that time we found out that Patty Lupone ..."

"Kurt," Mr. Anderson says more forcefully this time, enough firmness in his voice to capture Kurt's attention. "I'd love to, but I'm not sure I'll have the time."

Kurt's face falls and the brightness in his eyes dulls a little.

"Oh, I understand," he says weakly.

"It's just, I'm new here, and I've got a pretty hefty courseload, and glee club takes a lot of time, Kurt. I don't want to screw this up."

"No, it's okay," Kurt says, crestfallen. "I get it. I'm sure we can get Miss Pillsbury or Coach Bieste to fill in. It will be fine."

"Kurt, I'm really sorry," Mr. Anderson says, smiling ruefully, just as a tall, blonde girl walks through the door and takes a seat in the second row, drawing Mr. Anderson's attention. "Good morning," he says to her.

"Hey," the girl replies.

Kurt is already busy texting Rachel, and misses the apologetic glance Mr. Anderson gives him as the bell rings.

* * *

Turns out none of the glee clubbers got a firm yes out of any of McKinley's teachers, but Rachel was able to convince Miss Pillsbury to sit in on rehearsal that afternoon and for the remainder of the week. Of course, Rachel had to promise that they would find someone permanent by the following week.

Rehearsal was an absolute disaster with Rachel, Santana, and Mercedes arguing over solos, Mike and Sam arguing over choreography, and Kurt and Finn arguing over song selection. By the end of it all, Miss Pillsbury looked like she was about to pass out or throw up, and everyone was exhausted.

"This isn't going to work," Kurt says to Tina as they're exciting the choir room.

"I think Finn said Coach Bieste offered to fill in for a few days until we find someone," Artie offers. "And Miss Holiday was down. Maybe they can do a rotation?"

"We have to try _something_ ," Tina says. "Or someone, probably Santana, is going to kill Rachel."

"I fail to see the problem here," Kurt says, earning a laugh from Tina and Artie. He's teasing, but inwardly he knows they're doomed if they don't find a permanent replacement, and fast.

That night Kurt searches YouTube for old Warblers videos — for research only, of course. He is not at all interested in seeing Mr. Anderson's singing ability or how completely adorable he looks in that stupid blazer. It's really ill-fitting, and are those _pleated_ pants?

Kurt also does not watch the Warblers' performance of "When I Get You Alone" seven times in a row. Even if he does wonder why they were performing in a Gap of all places. And above all, he does _not_ have vivid dreams about Mr. Anderson's finger pressed seductively to his own lips while being spun around on a clothing rack.

Nope, Kurt's intentions were purely academic. Entirely innocent.

* * *

Blaine's head is a mess for the rest of the day after Kurt asks him to coach New Directions. He had wanted to say yes, but something held him back. What it was, he couldn't say. Or maybe he didn't want to admit it. Because if he was totally honest, Kurt had been on his mind since he had met him the day before, and that was definitely not good.

Something about the way the boy looked at him when he had apologized for his brother's clumsiness wouldn't leave Blaine's mind. Instead, it had filled his subconscious with thoughts of bright blue (or were they green?) eyes and the quirk of an eyebrow, matched with a perfectly crooked smile. The slight lilt of his laughter and the breathy quality of the boy's voice — well if fresh-out-of-college, 22-year-old Blaine Anderson was being honest with himself — the thought of everything about Kurt absolutely made him go weak in the knees. And that is the crux of the problem, isn't it?

When Blaine had walked into room 265 that morning to find that same piercing gaze and beguiling smile, he couldn't help but delight in his good fortune. Sure, Kurt had said he had AP English first period, but the sight that greeted Blaine was more than he had hoped for. Kurt, seated elegantly, (well, as elegantly as one could look in a cheap public school desk), long legs crossed precisely over one another, no doubt to showcase his exquisite pair of designer boots, was cradling a coffee cup in one hand and using his long, nimble fingers to navigate his phone. All of that combined with the morning sunlight catching Kurt's brown hair just right to place a soft haloed glow around his head, well, let's just say the sight was more than breathtaking, and Blaine couldn't look away.

When Kurt looked up, Blaine nearly dropped his own coffee in the doorway to the classroom. He must have looked like a bumbling idiot when he walked through that door, and for every minute after that because he couldn't stop grinning, and he refused to break eye contact.

Yet, he still said no when Kurt asked him for his help.

The irony, of course, is that Blaine would _love_ to coach New Directions. Music is still his life, and the idea of being back among the show choir set made him absolutely giddy. But he was busy, _very_ busy. Did he mention he's teaching _two_ AP classes? Oh, and there was Kurt…lovely, tempting, witty, long-limbed — and as his best friend, Wes, had pointed out over a frantic phone call the night before in which Blaine revealed he might have flirted with a student — underage Kurt.

So it's really for the best that Blaine sticks to teaching English and drama and whatever else the Lima school district would throw his way, and stay the hell out of glee club, because getting involved with anything that puts him in a situation involving singing and dancing in Kurt's vicinity could only end in disaster. Bad things happen when Blaine sings around guys he's even remotely attracted to.

Which is why Blaine is on the phone to Wes for the second time in as many days. Wes only had to remind him of an ill-fated serenade during his sophomore year for him to remember what happens to him when cute guys and choreographed numbers are involved.

"Need I remind you of the so-called 'Gap Attack' and a junior manager named Jeremiah?"

"Wes, I was 15," Blaine says. "What the hell did I know? I'm a grown man now. I've learned to exercise a little restraint since then. I also learned how to read a signal … and to stick to guys my own age."

"So why are you calling me about this?" Wes asks. "If you've got it under control. Then there's nothing to worry about."

He's testing Blaine. Wes always was the voice of reason. Even as a teenager leading the Warblers, Wes always seemed grown up and completely comfortable in his own skin. Not like Blaine, who had struggled to fit in and was prone to jumping on furniture like a puppy.

"Why did it have to be my first job?" Blaine asks rhetorically. "Why does this kid have to be so damned cute?"

Blaine sighs and flops himself down on the sofa in his tiny, one-bedroom apartment in west Lima, covering his eyes with his forearm.

"You're only making this more difficult on yourself by even considering it," Wes says finally. "You told him no, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, don't worry about it. I'm sure by tomorrow it will be old news, and they'll have found someone else to lead the glee club. And by the end of the week Kurt will be just another face in the endless sea of ungrateful teenagers."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Blaine says reluctantly.

"I usually am," he says with a laugh. "Look, I've got to go, pizza's here. Call me later if you need to chat."

"Okay…will do," Blaine says before hanging up. He lies on his sofa staring at the ceiling for a few moments. Maybe Wes is right; he's usually right. Kurt will fade into the background after a few days. Blaine can keep himself busy with lesson plans and grading and getting to know his way around McKinley. And New Directions will go on without him, and Kurt will fade into the background. Blaine might repeat that mantra to himself a few more times that night.

And oh yeah, Wes Montgomery _is_ usually right … except when he's not.


	2. Chapter 2

Glee practice for the rest of the week is even more disastrous than the first day. When Miss Holiday fills in on Wednesday, she convinces the girls to do a number in sexy lingerie, which earns a brag of "I tapped that fine ass" from Puck about Quinn, and starts a fight between him and Finn, who thinks he's defending his ex-girlfriend's honor.

Rachel storms off in a cloud of tears and dramatic exasperation (as per usual) and Kurt has to look away when Tina and Mike start making out passionately beside him. He rests his head in his hands and tries to figure out what he did to deserve all of this.

"Has anyone seen Santana or Brittany?" Sam asks.

"Not since we went to change for our number," Mercedes replies, trying to contain her cleavage a bit more by pulling up on the corset she's wearing. Sam is obviously trying not to ogle her and failing miserably.

"Maybe they're getting a little 'somthin, somthin' in the ladies," Artie offers.

Puck breaks from his shoving match with Finn to interject, "Whoa, like full-on lesbo?"

"Oh my _god_ ," Kurt says. "You are all impossible. Is that all anyone ever thinks about around here is sex?"

The rest of the group just stares at him, a few of them with guppy-like expressions, so he stands up and grabs his bag from next to his chair. "I'm going to go check on Rachel," he says and heads off down the hall toward the girls' bathroom, hoping Brittany and Santana have found a more private location for their afternoon tryst than the last time.

As he rounds the corner at the end of the hall, he sees Mr. Anderson tacking something up to the bulletin board outside of his classroom. Seeing Mr. Anderson in profile, Kurt notices for the first time how well-fitted this gorgeous teacher wears his pants, and he really and truly appreciates it. In fact, he continues to appreciate it until Mr. Anderson turns his head and smiles at him.

"What's a nice teacher like you doing in a place like this?" Kurt says as he approaches.

He winces a little at breathy quality of his voice and wonders briefly why he can't keep himself from flirting with his English teacher.

"Kurt," Mr. Anderson replies looking a little flustered, like maybe he's just realized Kurt is flirting. _Great…very smooth, Hummel._ "What are you doing here so late?"

"Glee rehearsal," Kurt replies. "I, uh… was looking for my friend Rachel. Did you see a crazy, crying girl come this way? Probably stomping off dramatically?"

Mr. Anderson's eyebrows come up, crinkling his forehead, as a smirk plays across his face.

" _Please_ tell me the fishnets and stilettos were a costume." His smile goes wide and his eyes sparkle with relief when Kurt nods. He's suppressing a giggle, but he can't fight the sly smile.

"Miss Holiday's idea of appropriate is a bit different than mine," Kurt says. "Or anyone with sanity really."

"I can see that," Mr. Anderson replies, taking in Kurt's exquisitely layered outfit from head to toe.

Kurt feels like he's under a microscope, which feels far less uncomfortable than it probably should. He watches as Mr. Anderson's eyes rake over him, pausing briefly where his neck meets his collar before finally again landing on Kurt's face and holding his student's gaze. Kurt wonders if maybe Mr. Anderson is judging him, and the thought that this gorgeous man might not approve of his fashion choices hurts just a little bit.

"Yes, well," Kurt says with a well-practiced lift of his chin. "Every moment of your life is an opportunity for fashion."

Mr. Anderson holds up his hands in surrender. "Please don't misunderstand me," he says. "It was a compliment."

"Oh," Kurt says, suddenly fully aware of his own heartbeat as he realizes he had been wrong. "Thank you."

Both teacher and student hold eye contact for a moment, letting the tension hang between them in the quiet hallway. When the sound of a heavy door closing somewhere in the distance echoes around them, Mr. Anderson begins to shift nervously. It forces Kurt to look away and fiddle with the strap of his bag. Mr. Anderson turns back to the bulletin board and clears his throat.

"So I take it glee club hasn't been going very well, then," he says without looking at Kurt.

"That might be the perfect definition of an understatement," Kurt says, eyes also cast downward. "So far our prospects have either run away screaming or turned the girls into glorified strippers."

"I'm sorry, Kurt."

Kurt shrugs and looks up at Mr. Anderson's sincere tone to see a pained expression. If Kurt didn't know better he'd swear Mr. Anderson was regretting turning him down.

"Coach Bieste is filling in tomorrow and Señor Martinez on Friday. We'll manage."

"Kurt, I…"

But he doesn't get to finish that thought, because Rachel comes barreling around the corner and almost runs right into Mr. Anderson, knocking some papers out of his hand.

"Oh gosh! Sorry!" she says, wiping at her still puffy eyes and smiling at the teacher.

"No harm done," Mr. Anderson says, smiling genuinely. "See?" He steps back and holds out his arms, gesturing toward himself. "Same old dorky English teacher."

Kurt laughs behind his hand, earning a glare from Rachel as Mr. Anderson bends to pick up his lost papers.

"Kurt, my clothes are in your locker," Rachel says, pleading with her eyes. "I need to change before I can go home."

"Oh yeah, right," Kurt says, regretting having to pull his eyes away from Mr. Anderson's backside, which is so conveniently displayed right in front of him.

"See you later, Kurt," Mr. Anderson calls as Rachel drags a reluctant Kurt down the hallway.

"First period!" Kurt calls back. _Again with the verbal diarrhea…As if Mr. Anderson doesn't know when his own class is._

When they're mostly out of ear shot, Rachel says, "Someone's a smitten kitten." Her smile is so wide, Kurt things it might break her face. It's a sharp contrast to her red, swollen eyes.

"Shut up, Rachel."

She gives him a good-natured jab in the ribs and threads her arm through his at the elbow, skipping alongside him cheerfully, her black stilettos tapping loudly in the hallway.

Blaine stares after the two seniors until they're around the corner and out of sight. He sighs and slumps heavily against the wall, the cement feels cool and soothing through his clothing. His skin has felt on fire since he saw Kurt appear at the end of the hallway.

That really needs to stop.

* * *

On Thursday Coach Bieste rules glee practice with an iron fist — well, she has a whistle at any rate. Finn has to do 20 pushups for messing up some choreography, and Puck gets told to take a lap when he swears and makes dirty jokes under his breath while Rachel sings to Finn about their most recent argument.

Kurt refuses to "take a knee" while Coach is giving them a pre-practice pep talk. No way he's ruining his brand new Alexander McQueen pants (fearlessly won from an online auction, thank you very much). And Coach Bieste tells him to hit the showers. So he leaves early, and from what Mercedes tells him, he misses another dramatic Rachel Berry storm off. So, he didn't really miss anything.

Every morning that week Kurt had made a show of lamenting his glee club woes to Mr. Anderson and he practices his best sad, pouty faces. Friday morning he even brings Mr. Anderson coffee. But Mr. Anderson stands firm.

"Kurt, I really would love to help you guys out, but it's just too much right now. I'm sorry," he says for what feels like the millionth time.

"Can't fault a guy for trying," Kurt replies.

This has become their dance. Kurt asks, Blaine says no. Kurt says something mildly flirtatious that he'll beat himself up over for the next 24 hours.

Kurt doesn't quite remember glee on Friday because Señor Martinez had been wearing some really tight jeans, and it was all a bit of a blur. Except for the part where Santana got in a screaming match with Sam and yelled profanities in Spanish for 20 minutes. By the time the day is over, Kurt is exhausted and he hopes the hint he dropped to Figgins about Mr. Anderson gets them a permanent teacher.

* * *

Blaine gets called in to Figgins' office during his free period on Friday.

"Have a seat," the principal says. "Peppermint?" he asks, holding out a candy dish.

"No thank you," Blaine replies, perching stiffly in one of the chairs in front of Figgins' desk. "Did you call me in here for a reason, sir?"

Blaine's nerves are on edge. Even though he's a full-grown man and Figgins is his boss, he can't help but feel like a child sitting across from the principal, about to hear how something is going on his "permanent record." His palms are sweating and he's tapping his foot nervously.

"How's your first week going, Blaine? Finding your way around McKinley?"

"Yes, sir. Just fine." He lifts an eyebrow, still unsure of what he's been called in for.

"No run-ins with our Cheerios or that cantankerous ball of fury known as Sue Sylvester?"

"Can't say that I've had the pleasure," Blaine replies. He's still completely puzzled as to where Figgins is going with all of this.

"Good…good. You might still be under the radar," Figgins says, looking thoughtful.

Blaine still has no idea what he's talking about. He's heard about Coach Sylvester and her insane methods, but he has yet to meet the woman, and he's fine with that lasting for as long as possible if the rumors are even partially true. He's got enough to worry about without being accosted by a grown woman who thinks track suits are acceptable work attire.

Figgins doesn't wait for Blaine to say anything, he just keeps talking.

"So Kurt Hummel tells me you have show choir experience, Blaine," Figgins says, smiling mischievously.

"Well, I was in my high school's a capella group," he says finally understanding where this is going. "I would hardly call that 'experience' in the professional sense of the word."

"Well, why didn't you tell me?" Figgins says. "This is wonderful!"

"Um, I…"

"I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but we really need a new faculty sponsor for the New Directions."

"Principal Figgins," Blaine begins. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. I'm new — not just to McKinley, but as a teacher. Don't you think you want someone with a little more…perspective?" _And possibly someone who isn't lusting after the group's unfairly gorgeous gay teen hearthrob?_

"Poppycock," Figgins says waving off Blaine's concerns. "You can manage. It's just a little singing and dancing." Figgins' smile and Kurt's previous accounts of New Directions' practices would indicate otherwise. But still, Blaine really, really wants to be involved in show choir again. He wants the job, even if it's not the best idea for him and his crush on Kurt.

_Oh, god, is it a crush?_

So instead of declining politely and excusing himself, he says, "I'll think about it," and heads back to his classroom.

_What is wrong with you, Anderson?_

* * *

Sitting in the Lima Bean Saturday morning Blaine has resolutely decided to decline Figgins' offer to coach glee club. He's up to his proverbial elbows in essays for his AP English classes and he hasn't even started on lesson plans for his drama classes yet. It's really for the best if he just sticks to the classroom and lets the glee club find another sponsor.

Unfortunately for Blaine, Kurt Hummel's caffeine addiction has other ideas.

Blaine is just about to get up to order another cup of coffee when he sees Kurt, bundled in more layers than are absolutely necessary for early September, walk through the door of the coffee shop with a petite Asian girl he's seen around McKinley. Blaine admires her style, a throwback to the '60s Mod look that flatters her immensely. Plus, he's always been a fan of bright colors. He glances down at his Kelly green plaid shirt and wonders how Kurt feels about his fashion choices.

He realizes it's not the first time he's wanted to talk fashion with his student. Kurt looks like he stepped out of a magazine most days, and not just because of the clothing. Apparently his weekend apparel is no exception. He's wearing a sweater that looks to be part cape or shawl, and it clings to his broad shoulders and narrow waist in all the right places. Before Blaine can stop himself from staring, Kurt looks directly at him and smiles.

_Shit._

Blaine smiles back and tries to hold himself together by shuffling some of the papers strewn across the table as the two high schoolers walk over to his table. He looks up to find Kurt giving him a bright smile, blue-green eyes shining with delight.

"Mr. Anderson," Kurt says. "We really need to quit running into each other like this. People will talk."

"Hi Kurt," Blaine replies, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in his stomach when Kurt flirts with him. _Does he know he's flirting?_ "I was uh…just grading some papers. Who's your friend here?"

"Oh, right," Kurt says. "This is Tina. We're in glee club together. Just getting a caffeine fix before we head over to her house to work on some choreography. Her boyfriend, Mike, is going to teach us our new routine."

"Hi, Mr. Anderson," Tina says politely.

"Nice to meet you," he replies.

"Kurt and Mike speak very highly of you," Tina says smiling. "Kurt especially."

Blaine tries to laugh it off, but he's pretty sure Kurt is glaring at Tina and blushing furiously while he tries to drag her toward the counter.

"Why don't you two have a seat," Blaine says gesturing toward the empty chairs. "Let me buy your coffee. I was just about to get a refill."

"Oh no, you don't have to do that," Tina says, grabbing Blaine's empty cup. "I'll do it." She turns to Kurt. "I'll get our usual order, Kurt. Why don't you see if you can use your powers of persuasion to get Mr. Anderson to coach glee."

Before either Kurt or Blaine can argue, she's turned on the spot and making her way to the line at the counter.

"Well, she's about as subtle as a nuclear bomb," Kurt muses.

Blaine can't help but laugh at that. She obviously thinks she's doing them a favor. Although, to what end, Blaine can't decide.

"You know Principal Figgins called me into his office yesterday…" Blaine says finally unable to bear the tense silence between them.

"Yeah?" Kurt says in an approximation of nonchalance.

"Yeah," Blaine says, twirling his red pen around between his fingers, just to have something to do. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you Kurt?"

Looking the picture of innocence and mischief all at once, Kurt replies, "I haven't the slightest." And then he smiles. It's a crooked sort of grin, with no teeth, but his eyes light up like Christmas, and Blaine can't look away. He clears his throat.

"Right…well, he told me a little bird told him I had show choir experience." He pauses and looks pointedly at Kurt. "A little bird by the name of Kurt Hummel."

"It's a fairly common name," Kurt says trying to look serious … and failing.

"Mmhmm. Well, he asked me to sponsor glee club, which I found incredibly interesting because there's a Kurt Hummel in my first period class who's been asking me the same thing for nearly a week now." He grins at Kurt and is shocked to see panic in his eyes.

"Mr. Anderson, I know you said you don't want to do it, but we really need the help and you'd be so much better than our other options." Kurt sounds frantic now and worry has clouded his expression. "I just thought if Figgins asked you maybe you'd say yes. I'm so sorry. Really."

"It's okay, Kurt."

"Really?" The hopeful look on Kurt's face is truly adorable.

"Yeah. I told him I'd think about it."

"And…?" Kurt asks warily. "What did you decide?"

"Kurt, I…"

Blaine knows what he has decided. He knows it deep in his soul that he doesn't have the time to give it the attention it deserves, and his attraction to Kurt is _really_ becoming problematic. He can't coach New Directions. He just can't. He's going to tell Figgins no. Absolutely not. Thank you, but no thanks.

And then Kurt smiles.

"Sure."

"What?" And now Kurt is positively beaming.

"I'll do it," Blaine says returning the smile full force. "It would be an honor."

"Oh my god! You're serious!" Kurt bounces up and down in his seat and claps like a delighted toddler. Blaine sees Tina approaching from their right and hears Kurt shout, "Tina! Tina! Mr. Anderson is going to coach glee club. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Oh my god, really?" She nearly spills the coffee she is holding when she starts jumping up and down. She turns to Blaine. "You have no idea how much we appreciate this. Oh wow, this is going to be so great."

Blaine hasn't said another word. Right now he's just focusing on smiling and not throwing up. He tries to listen while Tina and Kurt chatter excitedly about telling the rest of New Directions and how they won't have to run laps or sanitize the piano before rehearsal anymore. If Blaine could focus on anything besides his accelerating pulse and sweaty palms at that moment, he might have found their discussion a bit odd. As it is, though, he's trying to determine just when exactly it was that he lost his sanity. Because clearly, he's 110% nuts and has lost all sense of reason.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Blaine, please tell me you're joking," Wes says.

"I'm joking?" Blaine replies, wincing and closing his eyes.

"Blaine…"

"I know, I know. But you should have seen these kids, Wes. They don't have anyone else, and you know what the Warblers meant to us. I couldn't leave them high and dry."

"Right, and I'm sure this Kurt kid has nothing to do with it, either," Wes says, his tone sarcastic and harsh over the line.

"Give me some credit … please? I didn't do it for Kurt. I really want to coach this glee club. They're talented kids. They just need some leadership, and from what I hear their last teacher was pretty misguided."

Blaine knows he wouldn't have agreed to do it if it hadn't been for Kurt's pleading, but Wes doesn't need to know that. It's certainly not the reason he's decided to follow through with his promise to Kurt and Tina instead of backing out like he wanted to, and that's what matters, right?

"I thought you said you were too busy for it," Wes says, sighing. Blaine can tell from his tone that he knows this is a lost battle. Wes knows as well as anyone that once Blaine's made up his mind to do something, he's going to do it come hell or high water. So that's that. But he'll still be the voice of reason, if for no other purpose than to say "I told you so" when everything goes south.

"I am, but it's important," Blaine says. "I'll make it work."

"Okay, Tim Gunn, whatever you say. Just promise me you'll keep things professional. Didn't the last guy get fired for being too close to those kids?"

"Yeah, I will. Don't worry. I'll be the picture of decorum," Blaine says. "A Dalton man is a gentleman first, right?"

Wes laughs, and it makes Blaine smile. He knows his best friend will support him, even if he's making the worst decision of his life. Blaine can only hope that his instincts are wrong, and this will turn out to be a good decision.

Unfortunately, that hope only lasts from the end of his conversation with Wes on Sunday evening until about 10:30 a.m. Monday morning when he runs into Sue Sylvester in the hallway.

"Well if it isn't butt chin's replacement," she says.

"I'm sorry?" Blaine says.

"Oh you will be," Sue replies. "I hear you've taken over that sorry excuse for a meeting of Losers Anonymous masquerading as a glee club."

"Well, Figgins said he needed someone, and I'm happy to help out," Blaine says with a genuine smile.

"Listen here, gel helmet," Sue says pointing a sharp finger into Blaine's chest. "I didn't spend the last two years trying to get rid of that clown Will Schuester to have you swoop in and ruin my master plan for total high school dominance."

"What?" Blaine's face is screwed up in confusion and he's not really sure what Sue is talking about. He tries to back away from her as much as he can, but she just pushes forward, backing him into a row of lockers and looming over him.

"You're on my list, short stack."

Understanding dawns on Blaine's face.

"Wait, did _you_ get Will fired?" Blaine asks.

Sue grins broadly, but it does little to reassure Blaine. Something about her smile is menacing and cold.

"You're not as dumb as you look," Sue says, raising an eyebrow. "Although, that's not saying much."

Blaine ignores the dig and presses on. He needs to know just exactly what her role was in the whole fiasco. He'd heard from other teachers what had happened, and like everyone else, he just assumed that Will Schuester had finally broken down over the stress from the job. Just like Sandy Ryerson before him.

"So, he didn't proposition that student in the bathroom?"

"No, gay Gene Kelly, I made up that story about Will Schuester being a first-class pedophile because he loaded my confetti cannons with Jell-O. No one messes with my flair and gets away with it."

It finally hits Blaine what Figgins had said about staying under the radar. Up until this point, Sue had no interest in speaking to, or even looking at, Blaine. But now she apparently has a personal vendetta against him thanks to her insane and somewhat over-enthusiastic hatred of glee club. One that could very well get him fired from his first teaching job.

He swallows heavily and tries to speak. Sue interrupts.

"I'm watching you, Anderson. Put one toe on your oversized Hobbit feet out of line and I'll be on you like Britney on a Frappuccino." She reaches forward and flicks Blaine's bow tie before turning to head back in the direction she came, shoving a terrified looking freshman into a row of lockers.

Blaine takes a deep breath and heads to his classroom. What has he gotten himself into?

* * *

Kurt bites his knuckle to keep himself from squealing. Did he hear that right? Coach Sylvester got Mr. Schue fired, and now she's after Mr. Anderson? The same Mr. Anderson she just called _gay_ Gene Kelly? Gay. The word rings in Kurt's ears as he feels the guilt of believing the rumors about Mr. Schue wash over him.

The whole thing is a lot to take in, but the realization that Mr. Anderson might be gay is what sticks with him. He doesn't even want to stop to consider what that means about him or the fact that he's now going to be seeing Mr. Anderson twice a day instead of just once. And he'll be spending a lot of time with him outside of class thanks to glee rehearsals.

Kurt isn't sure how he feels about that, but the swooping feeling in his stomach would suggest nerves. What is he nervous about? He drops his head back against his locker and pushes off as he sees Mercedes approaching.

"Nice boots," she says. "How do you always pull that off? I feel like whenever I wear boots my legs shrink by like five inches."

"I guess I'm just blessed with these gangly limbs," Kurt says with his usual trademark mix of confidence and self-deprecation. He turns to follow Mercedes to their next class.

"Any idea what glee practice is going to be like today?" she asks.

"No, but I heard the Warblers have a council that decides solos. Can you imagine? I kind of hope he institutes something like that so we don't have to listen to Rachel wax poetic about her solos every week. There's no way the entire group would vote in her favor all the time."

"It sounds so rigid, though. Not really our style."

"Maybe not, but you have to admit Mr. Schue's method was kind of a free-for-all," Kurt says.

"Oh, god…all those awful themes," Mercedes muses. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I kind of miss him."

"Me too," Kurt agrees. "But Mr. Anderson is pretty cool."

"And cute." Mercedes nudges Kurt with her shoulder and grins at him.

"That's entirely beside the point," Kurt says. He adds an eye roll and a pointed look that only serve to send Mercedes into a fit of giggles that lasts until they walk into their third period history class.

Mr. Anderson's approach to glee turns out to be much different than either what Mr. Schue had done or the Warblers council, and somehow it also feels exactly the same. Mr. Anderson was fidgety and awkward, and he stumbled over his words as he introduced himself to the group.

Kurt found it utterly adorable.

And then he sang. Not only did he sing; he also jumped on the piano and danced around the room like an excited kid. Kurt might have lost feeling in his feet at that point, a permanent-ish grin, plastered to his face.

"Whoa, Mr. A," Finn says. "I didn't figure you for a Pink fan. But that was kinda cool."

"Thanks, Finn," Mr. Anderson says, still slightly out of breath.

"Mr. Anderson," Rachel begins. "Do you really think top 40 is the best way to showcase _my_ unique talents? I was thinking we do a medley of Broadway standards, interspersed with some particularly emotional ballads. In fact, I have a list…"

"Can it, Hobbit," Santana says. "We have a _new_ clueless teacher in charge. Maybe he doesn't want to rely on your solo hogging and force the rest of us into doo-wopping back up drones. Right?" She looks pointedly at Mr. Anderson.

"Well, um….I…"

"Back off, Satan. It's his first day," Kurt says. He turns to smile apologetically at Mr. Anderson and urges him to continue.

"Thank you, Kurt." He gives Kurt a grateful smile. "And Santana, I was hoping to hear everyone sing today so I can get an idea of who's best suited for what parts. Everyone," he says, looking around the room, "will get a chance at a solo."

"Finally," Mercedes says. "Someone who recognizes there's more than one diva in this room." She and Kurt exchange excited glances.

Tina raises her hand politely.

"Yes, Tina?"

"Do we all have to sing today, or can we prepare something?"

"I'd like everyone to sing today," Mr. Anderson says. "Something we all know…that way everyone is on the same page. How about Happy Birthday? Sound fair?"

Nearly everyone nods enthusiastically.

Rachel, as expected, goes first. She belts out the whole thing and pours her signature angst into it. Finn follows her, giving a gritty, yet slightly pitchy, performance. Puck adds guitar and a bit of head banging. Brittany sings something else entirely, and when Mr. Anderson questions her, she shrugs and says, "That's what we sing at my house for birthdays." He smiles at her and asks Artie to go next. His rendition sounds uncannily like Michael Jackson.

When Artie finishes, Mr. Anderson turns to Kurt and smiles brightly. "Why don't you go next, Kurt."

Kurt feels his palms begin to sweat and his usual pre-performance butterflies are more excited than usual, but he stands and walks to the front of the room looking the picture of decorum. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and begins to sing. When Kurt opens them again, he first keeps his gaze locked firmly on the floor, unsure if he wants to see Mr. Anderson's reaction or not. Kurt is never quite sure how someone will react to his unique voice. He finally gets the courage to look up and he quickly seeks out Mercedes. She's smiling back at him and it gives him confidence. He chances a glance at his teacher and what he sees nearly takes his breath away.

Mr. Anderson is sitting perfectly straight, practically on the edge of his chair. He is staring at Kurt with his mouth open, trapped somewhere between shock and awe. His hazel eyes are shining as Kurt holds the last note, refusing to look away.

When light applause erupts around the room, Mr. Anderson seems to shake himself back to reality.

"Wow…" he says. "Kurt, you have a very unique voice." Mr. Anderson's eyes seem to bore into Kurt and it has him rooted to the ground.

"Thanks," Kurt says, his voice nearly a whisper. He swallows heavily and can't manage to break eye contact. He can feel a heated flush begin to color his face, and he wonders if it's possible to die of embarrassment and pride all at once.

"No really…it's outstanding," Mr. Anderson adds. "Just…wow." He grins from ear to ear and holds Kurt's gaze for a moment.

"It really was great, Kurt," Mercedes says, glancing quickly between their teacher and her friend. She's not sure what's going on, but she, and everyone else, can feel the awkward tension in the room.

"Well, if you're all done wanking over Hummel's lady voice," Santana interrupts. "Some of us still have to sing."

"Yes, Santana," Mr. Anderson says, blinking several times and clearing his throat. "Why don't you go next."

The cheerleader walks to the front of the room and gives a flawless, sultry performance.

The rest of glee passes uneventfully, with each member of New Directions belting out "Happy Birthday" in turn, but none gets the reaction Kurt did.

As everyone packs up and leaves the room, Kurt is shocked to realize he's alone with Mr. Anderson. He busies himself with his bag and tries to look calm.

"You didn't tell me you're a countertenor," Mr. Anderson says to Kurt from across the room.

"I'm never sure how anyone is going to take that," he says. "It's kind of a double-edged sword."

"It's stunning," Mr. Anderson says, walking toward where Kurt is standing. "You shouldn't worry about what others think. You have a talent. Don't waste it."

Kurt can't help but smile at that. Genuine compliments don't come his way often. He's so used to ridicule and contempt, it feels good to be admired for something that is such a deep part of him.

"Do they give lessons in inflating your students' egos in college?" Kurt asks, putting some papers in his bag.

Mr. Anderson's laughter is bright and echoes through the room.

"You need to learn to take a compliment."

"Probably," Kurt says, looking up. "Although, until today I wasn't sure what they looked like." And he smiles.

Mr. Anderson smiles back, and something inside Kurt shifts. He feels a tug from deep within him. That's the only way to describe it really. It feels as if something is physically pulling him closer to Mr. Anderson, and from the look on the teacher's face, he can feel it too. Mr. Anderson leans almost imperceptibly closer and opens his mouth as if he is searching for words. Kurt hears himself take a sharp inhale of breath and Mr. Anderson freezes.

"I should probably go," Kurt says, breaking the silence. Although, later he will kick himself for ruining the moment like that.

"Oh…right," Mr. Anderson says. "Of course. It's getting late." He looks at his watch, worn curiously on his right wrist. "I think we may have run a little over."

"That's alright," Kurt says. "Mr. Schue always kept us late. My dad will think I'm home early."

"That's good," Mr. Anderson says, suddenly looking very shy and a bit uncomfortable. His hands are in his pockets and he looks to be concentrating on the pattern of the tile floor.

"See you tomorrow in English then?" Kurt says, taking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "I know I can't wait to tackle Henry James."

Mr. Anderson sputters a little and lets out a choked laugh.

"I mean…" Kurt says, realizing what he said. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."

"Yes, of course," Mr. Anderson says, trying to stifle his laughter.

Kurt shuffles on the spot and plays with the strap on his bag. "Well, um…I should go."

"See you."

Kurt walks slowly toward the door, hoping he'll find something else to say to keep himself in the room with his gorgeous teacher for just a few more moments. Instead, it's Mr. Anderson who finds his words first.

"Oh, and Kurt?"

Kurt turns and faces him. Mr. Anderson smiles warmly and it makes Kurt go weak at the knees in a way he's never felt before. Not when he had that misguided crush on Finn or even when he mistakenly assumed Sam was gay. This is what it feels like to have a deep and profound desire for someone. He's both thrilled and terrified. He forces his mouth into what he hopes is a friendly smile and raises an eyebrow at Mr. Anderson's question.

"I meant what I said. Your voice is one-of-a-kind. We should nurture that…maybe some extra rehearsal," he says. "I mean, if you want…"

"Really?" Kurt's face lights up. Now he _knows_ he's smiling. "That would be great! I'd really like to work on some of my high notes. There are a few pieces I can't quite do because the big emotional notes are just out of my range."

"Sure. We can talk about it tomorrow," Mr. Anderson says, suddenly unable or unwilling to make eye contact. "Have a good night, Kurt."

"You too, Mr. Anderson…and thanks!" he calls out. He practically skips down the hallway and through the parking lot to his car.

* * *

Blaine slumps down on the piano bench and drops his head in his hands.

He'd just offered Kurt Hummel private lessons. Kurt, who had just quite literally stopped Blaine's breath with his singing and who looked unfairly delicious in his snug-fitting jeans and vest. This is definitely not good.

_What was I thinking?_

The next morning, Blaine is greeted outside his classroom by a beaming Kurt, who thrusts a steaming paper cup of coffee in his face as he trills, "Good morning."

Blaine can't help but smile back at his pupil, taking in the glorious aroma of the coffee in Kurt's hands.

"For me?" he asks.

"It's just drip with a couple packets of sugar," Kurt says with a shrug. "I remembered from the coffee shop the other day. I hope that's your usual." He says it as if it's the most natural thing in the world, and maybe for him it is. But Blaine makes a secret wish that Kurt was just a bit older and not a high school student. Anyone who can remember his coffee order can have his heart any day of the week, especially if it's before 8 a.m.

"You just saved me from the horrific fate of consuming the teachers' lounge coffee," Blaine says. He takes a long pull on the coffee and hums contentedly. "Thanks."

He licks his lips and watches as Kurt does the same. It's mesmerizing, really, watching his small, pink tongue dart out and graze his top lip slowly. His mouth falls open slightly as he does so and he captures his bottom lip between his teeth before closing it again. Blaine realizes he's staring just as Kurt speaks.

"That's me, a regular Knight in Shining Coffee," he says, tossing his head back slightly and laughing.

Blaine wonders how he can be so calm when there's obviously tension between the two of them. He doesn't remember being that smooth at what…17…18? _Wait, how old is Kurt?_ Blaine looks him up and down, contemplating it for a moment and then remembering it's his turn to speak, and they're standing awkwardly in the hallway outside his classroom, checking each other out.

"So, did you give any thought to when we could do your extra rehearsal time?" Blaine asks, opening the door and gesturing for Kurt to walk inside. It's the first thing he can think of to get his mind off of Kurt's long legs and graceful walk as he enters the room.

"Actually," Kurt begins, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet and turning to face Blaine. "That's why I'm here so early. I was thinking we could do this before school in the mornings. We both seem to like to get a jump on the day anyway. What do you think?"

Blaine sets his coffee on the desk and pulls his bag over his shoulder, laying it next to the paper cup. He's definitely not a morning person, but the truth is, it's probably the only time he has to spare during the day. He uses his free period to prep his classes and his lunch is only 20 minutes. With glee taking up his afternoons, he has to use every spare minute of his evenings to grade. And weekends would just look suspicious.

"Sure," he says. "Tuesdays and Thursdays sound good?" He looks at his watch. "Today's out of the question, but we could get started later this week."

"Great!" Kurt beams at him. "I'm really looking forward to it."

"Me too," Blaine says with a returned smile. And he means it. For all his trepidation at being alone with Kurt, he's really excited at the prospect of helping Kurt to improve his exquisite voice. Suddenly a thought occurs to him. "Did you have an idea of a piece you wanted to work on, or would you like me to pick something?"

"Oh, I have a list a mile long," Kurt says. "But I'm always open to suggestion. Did you have something in mind?"

Blaine is pretty sure his brain short circuits with that because _his_ list is a mile long too, but it's filled with things that Kurt has probably never even considered in his wildest dreams. And they're definitely not songs.

"Mr. Anderson, are you alright?" Kurt asks.

Blaine shakes his head to clear his thoughts, as if his brain were an Etch-a-Sketch and that would clear the positively sinful ideas that were now occupying his mind.

"Yes…I mean...I have some ideas." He clears his throat. "Yes. I'll bring the music with me on Thursday."

"I can't wait," Kurt says. "Mr. Schue never really paid attention to anyone but Rachel and Finn. Well, at least when it came to singing. He was all up in our business otherwise."

"Sounds like he meant well," Blaine says, trying to remain diplomatic.

"Oh he did," Kurt says. "Don't get me wrong. It's just ….well, I don't think he ever really got _me_."

"Why do you say that, Kurt?"

Blaine wonders how Will Schuester could have missed all the wonderful things he sees in Kurt and why he would have focused so much of his time and energy on Finn. The kid is a good singer, and seems to be a decent guy, but Kurt is exquisite. And unique. And Finn's just, well…average.

"Mr. Anderson, I hope this doesn't make you feel differently about helping me out, but you'll find out eventually. The whole school knows anyway."

Kurt swallows heavily and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath that pulls his shoulders closer to his ears, and when he exhales his words come out in a breathy rush, "I'm gay." He opens his eyes and waits for Blaine's response.

Blaine almost laughs with delight, but catches himself just in time. He doesn't want Kurt to think he's laughing _at_ him. He knows how hard it can be to tell an adult (oh dear god, he's an adult isn't he?) that you're gay. Before he can speak, Kurt is looking at his feet and rambling.

"I totally understand if you don't want to coach me privately after that. It's just I wanted you to hear it from me first. I didn't want you to think I was coming on to you or something. Not that there's anything wrong with you, but you're my teacher and I don't think….well, considering the circumstances…"

"Kurt…Kurt!"

Watery blue-green eyes look up to meet Blaine's. The vulnerability there is heartbreaking. What on earth had this gorgeous creature been through to make him so skittish about being viewed as predatory? It's probably that thought more than anything else that makes Blaine toss aside his teacher persona for a moment to just be Kurt's friend. If only he'd had a teacher brave enough to help him through his high school years, maybe things would have gone a bit differently for him. He places a hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Kurt, I'm gay too."

The look on Kurt's face is a mixture of shock and relief. "You are?"

"I am," he says nodding. "So there's nothing to worry about. I get it. I really, _really_ get it. And Kurt, you shouldn't have to apologize for it."

Kurt smiles. It's different from the beaming excitement or shy, flirtatious smiles he's used to seeing on the boy's face. This smile seems to radiate off him in waves, and Blaine feels it all the way in his toes. This smile is one he probably saves for only those closest to him, and Blaine cherishes it.

Just then the bell rings, pulling them both out of the moment. Blaine drops his hand from Kurt's shoulder and rubs it against his thigh, trying to quell the tingling sensation in his palm.

"We'll talk more later," Blaine says.

Kurt just nods slowly and takes his seat. He seems distracted for the rest of the period and doesn't say goodbye when he leaves after the class is over.

Blaine worries he's overstepped some boundary for the rest of the day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Kurt's mind is a spinning mess of confusion after Mr. Anderson's class. He had _suspected_ that his teacher was gay — impeccable fashion sense and Coach Sylvester's comment notwithstanding. Kurt was certain he hadn't imagined the flirting either.

But having it spelled out for him in no uncertain terms, well that was utterly terrifying. And Kurt didn't know what to do with that bit of information. He considered confiding in Rachel, but then it would get back to Finn and probably his dad, and he just couldn't handle that kind of humiliation right now…or ever.

Mercedes was another option, but she was also likely to gossip. Not to mention, she would probably encourage Kurt to go for it just for the sake of watching the drama unfold while claiming she just wanted to see him happy. No, better not confess his confusion to either of them.

As he looked up from his locker, he saw Tina chatting with Artie on the other side of the hallway. Tina, who had been in a stable, committed relationship for going on two years and who managed to stay friends with her ex-boyfriend. She might be the _exact_ person he could talk to. She also spoke so rarely, she was less likely to spill the beans to the rest of the school. And she was his friend.

Kurt closes his locker and makes his way across the hall to where Tina is pulling her geometry book out of her locker as Artie takes off in the other direction.

"Hey," she says, throwing her long hair over he shoulder. "How's your day going so far? I'm already drowning in homework and it isn't even second period yet."

"Okay I guess," Kurt says with a shrug. "Tina, have you ever had feelings for someone you shouldn't?"

Tina just laughs. "You're joking right?"

Kurt furrows his brow in confusion. "No."

"Kurt, I started seeing Mike before I was completely broken up with Artie, remember?"

"Oh, right," Kurt says. He ignores the good-natured eye roll Tina gives him and continues. "That's actually not what I meant. This is…different."

"Different how?" she asks.

Kurt looks left and right, making sure no one is in ear shot before leaning closer to Tina and lowering his voice to almost a whisper.

"It's about Mr. Anderson," Kurt says as softly as he can and still be heard over the din of the hallway noise.

Tina's eyes go wide, and her mouth forms a perfect O. "You have feelings for Mr. Anderson?" she stage whispers.

"Shhhh!" Kurt says. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, he's gay."

"Well, we kind of figured that."

Kurt nods. "But now he's confirmed it."

"He _told_ you he's gay? How did that even come up?"

"I might have told him _I'm_ gay," Kurt says, looking down and toying with the buttons on his shirt. "I think he was trying to make me feel better, and he told me he understands what it's like and he just said it; like it's no big deal."

"So … _that_ made you have feelings for him?" Tina's face is a mask of confusion.

"No, I think I already did … before that. But now that I know he's gay, and he knows I'm gay. It feels like there's this pressure. And he's a teacher…a _teacher_."

"Yes, he is…"

"Oh my god!" Kurt's hand flies up to cover his mouth as he remembers the other part of their conversation.

"What?" Tina asks, concern coloring her pretty face.

"We're starting private vocal lessons on Thursday! I'm going to be _alone_ with him," Kurt says, looking terrified. "A lot."

"I don't see the problem here, Kurt," Tina says, closing her locker and heading toward her second period class. Kurt follows her as she continues talking. "It's not like you can do anything about it. You said it yourself…he's a teacher."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Kurt says. "I just wish he didn't look so good in those stupid bow ties."

Kurt sighs and Tina laughs, playfully swatting Kurt's arm.

"He _is_ pretty easy on the eyes," Tina admits. "But don't you dare tell Mike I said that," she adds, poking a finger at Kurt.

"Your secret is safe with me," Kurt says. "As long as mine is safe with you."

"Oh, of course," Tina says. "My lips are sealed."

She mimes zipping her lip before disappearing into her geometry class, leaving Kurt in the hallway contemplating their conversation. Maybe Tina is right. He's got nothing to worry about. Blaine is a professional and his teacher. It's perfectly safe. And it's just singing lessons. It'll be fine.

* * *

Blaine pulls in to the McKinley High parking lot extra early Thursday morning. He kills the engine and takes a deep breath. Since his encounter with Kurt Tuesday morning, the two had not spoken outside of class or glee rehearsal. The exchanges, although brief, were fairly normal and nondescript. In fact, Kurt seemed as comfortable as he had been before their discussion. But he hadn't shown up early to first period or stayed late. In fact, he'd been the last one to enter room 265 in the morning and the first one to exit the choir room in the evening both days. Blaine wasn't sure what that meant for their early morning lesson.

But he's only got about 15 minutes before Kurt shows up and he wants to warm up a bit on the piano first. So he grabs his bag from the passenger's seat and his travel mug from the cup holder and walks into the nearly empty school. Walking through the quiet halls of McKinley, he decides he'll just keep their lesson professional. No need to talk about anything personal or bring up their earlier discussion. Strictly business. Scales and high notes.

As he nears the choir room, he hears a soft melody spilling out from behind the closed door. Even muffled, he can tell it's Kurt's crystalline voice. He cracks open the door just in time to pick up on the second verse of "Don't Cry For Me Argentina."

It's actually a really good rendition, if a bit melodramatic with all the hand raising and gesturing that Kurt is doing. Blaine closes his eyes and just listens to Kurt's voice, matched so perfectly to the accompaniment wafting out from the iPod dock resting on the piano. It rings out brightly in the empty room and Blaine can feel the emotion of it in every note.

_Have I said too much? There's nothing more I can think of to say to you._

Blaine opens his eyes at the softer tone, knowing the song is coming to an end. Kurt is standing perfectly still, eyes closed, one hand clasped over his heart and the other reaching out as if to grasp at something. Blaine fights the urge to step forward and grab his outstretched hand.

_But all you have to do is look at me to know that every word is true._

As he finishes the last note and the music swells behind him, Kurt's arms fall to his sides, and he slowly opens his eyes, revealing tears glistening in the corners. He startles slightly when he sees Blaine, but doesn't say anything.

"That was beautiful," Blaine says.

"Mr. Anderson, I didn't know you were there." Kurt shuffles some sheet music sitting next to him on the piano and turns off the iPod dock, killing the final dramatic notes of the song.

"I didn't want to interrupt," he says. "You looked…well, I uh…didn't want to interrupt it."

"I was just warming up," Kurt says softly. "Best not to start on a cold voice, you know."

"Indeed I do," he replies, trying to ignore the tension between them. "Why don't we work on some scales?"

Blaine takes a seat at the piano and gestures for Kurt to stand next to him. "Have you sung scales before?" he asks.

"Not really," Kurt says. "Mr. Schue had a more unconventional way of handling things. I've worked on matching pitch on my own a bit, but nothing formal."

"No problem," Blaine says. "We'll start simple. I'll play the note, and you try to match it … we'll go from there."

He strikes a key on the piano and says "B flat," and then gestures for Kurt to sing the note. Kurt's voice rings out clear and sharp, matching the pitch effortlessly.

"Good," Blaine says. "Now C."

Kurt hits the second note just as easily as the first. They continue that way through several scales, up the key and back down, Kurt never missing a note, despite some of the higher ones being on the top end of his range.

"Nice work," Blaine says, looking up at a smiling Kurt after he finishes the last scale. "You want to try a song? I think we have time. Something you're comfortable with. We don't want to push too much in the beginning. Remember, we're building up the strength of your vocal chords here."

"Sure," Kurt says. "There's this one song my mom used to sing to me. I sang it for my dad last year when he had his heart attack. It's well within my range."

Kurt hands Blaine the sheet music for "I Want to Hold Your Hand" by the Beatles. It's the slower version used in "Across the Universe." Blaine looks up at him, smiling.

"I love this version," he says. "Takes the lyrics to a new place. Don't get me wrong, the original's great…it's just for a love song, I don't know ... I guess I always thought it should have more longing, you know?" He looks back down at the sheet music and spreads it across the piano.

"Yeah, I know," Kurt says. "How can you practically beg to hold someone's hand and be so upbeat about it?"

Blaine nods in agreement before flexing his fingers and testing out the first few notes on the piano. Kurt takes a seat on the bench next to Blaine, which causes the teacher to start a bit.

"Mind if I sit down for this one?" he asks. "My feet are starting to hurt. I haven't really broken in my new Docs yet."

"Uh…sure," Blaine says, now acutely aware of how close Kurt's left thigh is to his right and it has to be his imagination that he can feel the boy's body heat through the cotton of his trousers.

Kurt looks at him expectantly and blinks slowly a few times. "I'm ready when you are," he says.

"Oh, right," Blaine says. "Just let me…." He taps out a few random notes to get rid of his nerves and then begins the song.

From the moment Kurt sings the first notes, it feels as if a spell is cast over the room. Blaine's fingers feel as if they're moving of their own accord, and he keeps stealing glances in Kurt's direction.

_Oh please say to me, you'll let me be your man. And please say to me, you'll let me hold your hand._

Kurt is singing with his eyes closed again, and he's lost in the song. Blaine can't help but be grateful for the piano occupying his fingers at that moment, because he's sure this time, with Kurt pleading to hold his hand, he'd give in and touch him. And he knows it's wrong. So very, very wrong.

But Kurt's voice is richer singing this song than it had been earlier, and much deeper. There's something raw and sensual about the way he's singing, and Blaine wonders if he might be doing it on purpose.

And then suddenly Blaine realizes he's singing along. Kurt's eyes dart open, but he doesn't stop singing.

_Yeah you got that something, I think you'll understand. When I feel that something, I want to hold your hand._

Kurt stares in wonder as they sing the final lines to each other, Blaine's fingers no longer gliding along the piano keys to accompany their singing.

_I want to hold your … hand._

The final words of the song seem to linger in the air for a moment as they lock eyes. Blaine can hear them both breathing, heavier than they should be from the ease of the song they just sang. He feels as if something is pulling him toward Kurt and he leans in, unable to force his muscles to stop. Kurt seems to be having trouble staying put as well, inching a little bit closer to Blaine.

"Kurt…" Blaine says to Kurt's lips.

"I thought I heard music in here," a voice says from behind them. "Usually I'm the only one in the choir room this early. Are you working on something, Kurt?"

Kurt's head whips around quickly and Blaine turns to see Rachel standing in the doorway of the choir room, a gigantic, fake smile on her face.

Her tone is light and sweet, but the tension is evident in her voice. Rachel Berry would never let someone get the jump on her if she could help it, and the thought of Kurt getting any special attention that she herself wasn't getting would surely set her on edge.

"I offered to work with Kurt on his vocal range, Rachel," Blaine says, jumping to Kurt's defense as Rachel enters the room fully and stands next to them at the piano.

"Oh," she says looking thoughtful. "Well, it certainly wouldn't hurt the group for us to have more than one strong vocalist. I've been getting private vocal instruction since I was three. I just like to warm up my voice in the mornings. You never know when an impromptu performance might be necessary." Her smile is bright and genuine, and Blaine exhales loudly, grateful that Rachel seems to be oblivious to the moment she interrupted. He's also relieved that he's not created any unnecessary drama for the glee club.

Blaine stands and starts gathering up his sheet music and separating it from Kurt's. He shoves a few sheets into his bag and hands the rest to Kurt, who is still seated at the piano bench looking at him with a shocked expression. Blaine clears his throat.

"I should probably get to class," he says, throwing his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his travel mug. "See you this afternoon, Rachel." He turns to Kurt. "Don't be late for first period."

"I won't," Kurt replies still staring.

Blaine ducks his head and walks briskly to room 265, trying to clear his head.

* * *

"Kurt?" Rachel asks. "Why do I feel like I interrupted something?"

He looks at his friend with a raised eyebrow and a sardonic grin.

"It's just a singing lesson, Rachel. Surely you know what that is. You just said you have private lessons all the time."

"I do," she says, looking incredulous. "But Mrs. Hammerschmidt _never_ looks at me like that."

"That would be awfully weird if she did," Kurt jokes.

"Kurt, I'm serious," she says. "I sensed _sexual_ tension. With our _teacher_." She looks only mildly scandalized. Kurt can fix this.

"It's finally happened," Kurt says dramatically. "Rachel Berry, you've lost it. It was only a matter of time." Kurt begins shuffling papers and shoving them in his bag haphazardly. And when she doesn't seem to understand what Kurt means, he continues: "He's a teacher, Rachel. I mean…gross."

"It didn't look like you think he's gross," she says, looking less certain now. "I know when I had my crush on Mr. Schue, it was flattering when he would compliment my singing or smile at me. But I was _very_ confused. It's a teacher's job to boost our egos, nurture our talents. That's what they do. I just don't want you to get hurt." She smiles warmly at Kurt and pats his shoulder.

"Look, there's nothing to worry about because there's nothing going on. I don't have a crush on Mr. Anderson."

_I might actually be in love with him._

"Okay, Kurt…whatever you say. Just be careful, please. This could have negative consequences for the whole glee club."

"Jesus, Rachel, _nothing_ is going to happen!" Kurt grabs his bag and storms out of the room.

He knows Rachel is right, but he also knows he didn't imagine the spark between them when Mr. Anderson had been singing with him, and it wasn't the first time he'd felt it either. This was really beginning to be problematic, and it's only the first lesson.

He makes it to class just seconds before the bell rings, effectively eliminating any chance of awkward conversation with Mr. Anderson before class starts. So Kurt takes his seat and tries not to stare _too_ much while his teacher chats animatedly about a sonnet he's just read to the class. Kurt wonders how he manages to make the phrase "couplets of iambic pentameter" sound so sexy as he watches his strong hands write notes on the board.

Suddenly Kurt is acutely aware that he'd sung a song to this man not twenty minutes earlier about wanting to hold his hand. His face burns hot with the memory and he tries to focus on the lesson and take notes. He fails miserably.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Blaine does his best to avoid Kurt's eyes during class on Thursday and to avoid him altogether as much as he can over the next few days, but they still have their lessons twice a week and glee every afternoon. He catches Kurt staring on several occasions, but it only serves to make him more determined that he keep his relationship with Kurt on a strictly professional level.

After their first lesson, Blaine could no longer deny that he is attracted to Kurt. The moment between them in the choir room was dangerously close to being a fireable offense. If not for Rachel Berry's impeccable timing (thanks to her overinflated drive to be a Broadway superstar) Blaine may have made a very grave error in judgment. And he knows he can't risk putting himself in that kind of position again.

"You have to separate yourself from this," Wes says when Blaine confides in him that night. "You're on a slippery slope, Blaine."

"I know, I know….FUCK! What is wrong with me?"

"Hormones," Wes says simply. "I mean, when was the last time you got laid?"

"It's not like that," Blaine insists. "I'm not having sexual fantasies about the kid. I just feel drawn to him; I can't explain it."

It's the complete truth. Blaine _can't_ explain his attraction to Kurt. And it's definitely more than lust, that much he's sure of. Kurt is certainly sexy in a subtle and unassuming way, but that's not what has Blaine intrigued. He feels an inexplicable pull toward Kurt that extends beyond physical desire and into a deep, unmistakable, and ultimately really scary, connection.

"Then I think it's best if you just avoid him as much as possible."

"Yeah," Blaine says, still lost in his own thoughts.

"….And nix the private lessons," Wes adds.

That catches Blaine's attention.

"What?"

"You really shouldn't be alone with him," Wes says. "Considering the circumstances."

"Yeah, I suppose that would be a good idea." Blaine's not entirely convinced, and Wes keeps talking.

"And maybe go on date or something with someone your own age. At least get out of the house," Wes says. "Isn't there a gay bar nearby?"

"Scandals?" Blaine scoffs. "It's like an obstacle course of STDs and middle-aged bears. I don't think I could stand it."

"Well, you need to figure out something before you jump all over some pimply faced kid and scar him for life."

"He's not pimply faced," Blaine mutters.

"Whatever he is or isn't," Wes says, "developing anything other than a strictly platonic relationship with him is highly illegal _and_ likely to get you fired ... Stay. Away."

"I know, I know," Blaine concedes, suddenly very done with the discussion. "Listen, I have grading to do. Thanks for the talk."

"Anytime, man."

After Blaine hangs up, he thinks about what Wes had said, and knows his best friend is right, but whenever he thinks about telling Kurt he can't work with him one-on-one anymore, all he can picture is Kurt looking sad and dejected, and it breaks his heart.

He worries over it all weekend and by Monday, he's come to a decision. He'll take Wes' advice…well some of it anyway.

The truth is, the more he thought about it, he just can't bring himself to end the private lessons because he doesn't want to disappoint Kurt. He had been so excited to work on his range, and Blaine didn't want Kurt to think he was giving up on him. It sure seems like no one has ever given him — or his talent — much of a chance before. He'll just have to try not to think about Kurt as anything more than another talented student. And try to avoid any extraneous conversation. Or eye contact. And definitely no flirty duets.

It's relatively easy to avoid interacting with Kurt in a classroom of 25 students, but it becomes more difficult in a choir room of 12. And it's frankly impossible when it's just the two of them. But he manages to keep the conversations to a minimum and avoids all eye contact lasting longer than 1.2 seconds…give or take.

By the third week, Kurt seems to have had enough of Blaine refusing to look at him and only speaking when absolutely necessary, and he has started storming out of their lessons in a huff. They've not so much as exchanged a "From the top" or "Was that the right note?" since their first lesson, so Blaine can completely understand his frustration. But he refuses to give in. Kurt, on the other hand…

"Mr. Anderson, did I do something wrong?" Kurt asks after first period one Monday morning in early October.

"No, of course not, Kurt. Why would you think that?" Blaine says, erasing the board at the front of the room to avoid the temptation of looking at Kurt.

"Well, for starters you never look at me anymore," Kurt says. "And you barely speak to me."

"Kurt, I speak to you," Blaine says, still focusing on the board. "We're talking now."

"You know what I mean," Kurt says quietly. "I thought we were kind of…friends?"

The hurt in his voice is clear, and it weakens Blaine's resolve. He sighs and drops heavily into the chair behind his desk. After a moment, he tempts fate and glances up at Kurt, who looks pensive, sad, and so, so young.

"How old are you Kurt?" he asks.

"Seventeen," Kurt replies, blue eyes wide and questioning. "Does that matter?"

"Yes and no," Blaine says, unsure of how to explain.

Kurt tilts his head to the side and gives Blaine a perplexed look. Blaine leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, and looks up at his student, who is now leaning seductively on a desk in the front row. _Does he even know what he looks like right now?_ He's all long limbs and sinewy muscles. Strong jaw. Perfect hair and rosy cheeks. It takes Blaine's breath away to even look at him.

"I'm not very good at explaining myself, am I?" Blaine asks rhetorically. He drags his hand down his face and drops it into his lap. "Listen Kurt, I'm going to be very clear with you about this because you're almost an adult now, at least in the law's eyes, and I think you'll understand." Blaine is gesturing with his hands as he talks, the only tell that his nerves are frazzled, and his heart feels like it's about to beat out of his chest.

"How can I put this?" He pauses, glancing up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath. "I don't think it's …" He exhales loudly. "…appropriate for us to be friends."

Kurt, for his part, looks unflappable as he raises an eyebrow and lifts his chin like he's steeling himself for a punch.

"Do you understand what I'm saying Kurt?" Blaine tries to plead with his eyes, praying that Kurt will make this easy on him.

"No," Kurt says, lifting his chin higher. He fidgets a little when Blaine gives him a pointed look. He knows Kurt felt the same spark that he had, and this boy is definitely not stupid. Blaine stares at him until Kurt sighs and says "Yes," barely above a whisper.

Blaine stands and steps closer to Kurt. He has to cross his arms over his chest in order to keep himself from placing a hand on his student's shoulder.

"Kurt, I'm your teacher," he says gently. "This needs to be completely above board. I can't risk my job by being your _friend_ , and you know people will talk if we get too close."

He knows they both feel the extra meaning Blaine puts on the word "friend," and Kurt practically winces when Blaine says it.

"I know…it's just… Can't you at least treat me like you did before?" Kurt says, his voice sounding frantic in its quiet restraint. "It was nice having a teacher at this stupid excuse for a school be nice to me for a change."

Kurt looks like he's on the verge of tears, forcing himself to look anywhere but at Blaine. And yet, he looks so beautiful in that moment that Blaine has to grip his own elbows tightly to resist the urge to cup Kurt's face in his hand and dry his tears before they fall.

"Kurt…"

The sound of his name draws his eyes up to meet Blaine's and the emotion between them is palpable. It's taking everything they both have to not close the distance and indulge in a forbidden comfort. Blaine can see in Kurt's eyes that for all his youth, he understands that being in such close proximity and not being able to do anything about their attraction will be torture, but the thought of not being around each other at all is unbearable.

Blaine knows he's playing with fire, but he can't stop himself from smiling sadly at Kurt as he says, "We'll just have to be on our best behavior."

The smile on Kurt's face practically lights up the room.

* * *

"I heard you're giving Porcelain private vocal lessons," a voice from behind Blaine says as he's pouring a sludge-like cup of coffee from the pot in the teachers' lounge.

"Excuse me?" Blaine says turning around to face Sue. He gives her what he thinks is his most menacing glare. But if the smirk on her face is any indication, he's not intimidated her in the slightest.

"Oh don't play dumb with me, Blanderson," she sneers. "If you think you can hide anything from me at this sorry excuse for a school, I'll have your head on a platter sooner than I thought."

"Look, I don't know what I did to piss you off, but I hardly see how me giving a student help outside of class is a blackmail-worthy occurrence, let alone any of your business. Now if you don't mind, I'm late for class."

"Watch yourself, Hobbit," Sue calls out after him as he storms out of the lounge. "I've got my eye on you."

* * *

"Okay guys," Mr. Anderson says. "We need to get ready for sectionals and I've got a list of songs I want us to try out. So we'll be holding open auditions for the possible solos and featured parts."

Kurt looks over to see Rachel's face, contorted in barely contained rage, as Mr. Anderson continues. Over her shoulder, Kurt can see Mercedes smiling smugly. The contrast amuses him. It's such a change in circumstances, he can hardly believe it.

"The lead vocals will go to the singers whose voices are best suited for each song," Mr. Anderson continues. "And then we'll work on narrowing it down to three songs from there."

Rachel's still obviously unhappy with the new (read: fair) process of solo selection, but Mercedes is positively giddy, and even Santana is smiling a little.

Kurt tries to contain his own excitement when he asks, "What songs are on the list, Mr. Anderson?"

The teacher looks at Kurt and smiles. "Well, Kurt, I'm glad you asked. I think you'll all find something on this list you can relate to."

He passes a stack of papers to Quinn in the front row and motions for her to pass them around. Kurt takes a look at the paper when it reaches his hands and gasps. At the top of the list, bold as brass, is "I Want to Hold Your Hand." He looks up to find Mr. Anderson looking at him with concern.

"Mr. Anderson, this list is certainly … eclectic," Rachel says, disdain clear on her face. "But do you really think 'Teenage Dream' translates to show choir?"

"It's all in the arrangement," he replies with a grin. He looks at the group expectantly, but suddenly his face falls. Kurt glances around the room and sees lots of skeptical faces. Puck looks downright bored, and Santana is coloring Brittany's fingernails with a red Sharpie.

Kurt decides to help Mr. Anderson out a bit. "Tell us about the arrangement, Mr. Anderson," he says.

Mr. Anderson smiles. "I'll do you one better," he says, waggling his eyebrows. "You guys want to hear it?"

Before anyone can respond, Mr. Anderson points to Brad at the piano and the first bouncy notes of "Teenage Dream" are echoing through the choir room.

"Now if you can imagine, Mr. Anderson says, "the piano part will actually be vocals…you'll be singing it."

"He wants us to do it a cappella?" Rachel says in shock.

"My eye doctor says I shouldn't do that anymore," Brittany says quietly.

Kurt has his mouth open and is turning to his right to correct her, when he hears Mr. Anderson start to sing.

_You think I'm pretty without any makeup on…_

Kurt forgets whatever it was he was going to say to Brittany because the arrangement is good…really good. Mr. Anderson's facial expressions and dance moves completely change as he starts to get into the performance. His rich tenor gives the song new life. No, Kurt thinks, this isn't Mr. Anderson; _this_ is Blaine. This is the same guy who bounded shamelessly around the Gap serenading an employee. This is the guy who wore a navy blazer and performed as the Warblers front man. It's his full-on stage persona, and Kurt Hummel is absolutely in love.

Practically all of New Directions is rapt as their teacher dances around the room singing Katy Perry at the top of his lungs. Kurt has stopped breathing, though, because Mr. Anderson now appears to be singing directly to him. No one else seems to notice or care.

Mike and Brittany have joined in by dancing exuberantly at the front of the room with Mr. Anderson doing a step-touch move that looks straight out of a Warblers video. Artie and Sam are singing backup vocals and occasionally adding a little beatbox. They really hit their stride during the chorus.

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream…_

Kurt shifts in his seat, looking around at his friends to see if anyone is seeing what he sees. Do they know Mr. Anderson is singing to him?

Finn looks confused; Rachel is definitely not amused. Mercedes, Puck, and Quinn are caught up in the performance and swaying along to the music. Santana appears to be watching Brittany dance. No one seems to have picked up on the fact that Kurt is being serenaded. He puts a hand over his mouth to hide his giddy smile as Mr. Anderson launches into the chorus for the second time.

_My heart stops when you look at me._

Kurt is pretty sure he loses his mind a little more every time Mr. Anderson winks or smiles and he feels a flutter in his chest that keeps growing in intensity. Thankfully everyone else is either dancing around the room or singing along. Even Rachel has seemed to soften a bit as she gets caught up in Mr. Anderson's enthusiasm and begins to sing back up.

When the song comes to an end, his eyes are locked on Kurt, a smirk playing across his face as he sings the last line.

_Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight._

Kurt watches Mr. Anderson's heaving chest and parted mouth for a moment before he realizes the song has ended. He frantically applauds along with everyone else as the ones who had joined in the performance take their seats.

"That was really cool, Mr. A," Mercedes says, nodding and smiling. "I think we can work this list."

Mr. Anderson smiles back at her, and Kurt wonders how he's going to get through the rest of the school year with his sanity in tact if he's busy thinking about putting his hands on his teacher in his skin-tight jeans.

It's going to be a long year.

* * *

Blaine knows he probably shouldn't have looked at Kurt so much while singing "Teenage Dream," but it was yet another example of Kurt's presence being intoxicating. The fact that he can't control his physical reaction to the guy is really becoming problematic. He feels like he's fighting his impulses more and more while his rate of failure continues to climb.

It takes several weeks for it to hit a peak, and it's ironically during an argument with Kurt during Glee rehearsal that he feels the wave crest and crash into him like a tidal wave.

Kurt had been standoffish and quiet for several days, feeding off of Blaine's anxiety, no doubt. But he'd kept his cool, at least during classes and practice. And during their one-on-one sessions, he'd been friendly without being overtly flirtatious. All of that must have been an act, though, because clearly he'd been bottling something up, and the pressure was finally too much to take.

"Okay guys, let's take it from the top," Blaine calls out to the class. "We need to really nail this choreography if we're going to take sectionals next week."

He can hear groans and murmurs of complaint as the group resets, but it's the eye roll from Kurt that sets him off.

"Something wrong with that, Mr. Hummel?" he says.

Kurt looks shocked at the harshness of his words and the formal address. Suddenly he stiffens and raises his chin, looking down his nose at Blaine from across the stage.

"Nothing at all, _Mr. Anderson_ ," he replies coldly, Blaine's name cruel on his tongue. "I just _love_ doing this third-rate choreography ten times a day because _two_ people can't get their shit together. That makes perfect sense."

"Now hang on a second, Kurt. This is a team. If one person needs the work, we all need the work."

"Whatever," Kurt says, rolling his eyes again and thrusting his arms down in exasperation. "I'm done."

Blaine watches as Kurt storms off the stage, and even though he's acutely aware of the many pairs of eyes on him from the rest of New Directions, he doesn't think twice about going after Kurt.

"Everybody take five," he says. "I'll be right back."

He takes off through the auditorium at a pretty healthy clip, practically down the aisle. Once he hits the open hallway, he calls out for Kurt, looking left and right before choosing a direction. He finds Kurt leaning forward to rest his head on a row of lockers near the choir room. He's kicking the floor and leaving dark, angry scuffmarks with his right foot.

"Kurt?" he says softly, trying not to startle him.

Kurt doesn't look up. His shoulders sag heavily with a sigh. "The door's locked," he says. "My bag's inside."

"Kurt," Blaine says, grabbing Kurt's arm near the elbow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says, refusing to make eye contact. "Just let me get my stuff, and I'll be out of your hair."

Blaine digs in his pocket for the keys and unlocks the door to his office, motioning for Kurt to head inside.

"Mr. Anderson," Kurt pleads, finally looking up. "I just want to go home."

"Just humor me for a minute," Blaine says, smiling. "Come in and have a seat."

Kurt reluctantly walks into the office and stands with his arms crossed. Blaine has no idea what's gotten into him, but stubbornness is radiating off him in waves. Something has him riled up, and he wants Blaine to know that he's the one in control, not the teacher.

"Would you please sit?" Blaine asks, trying to put all his concern in his voice. He takes a seat behind his desk and looks up at Kurt.

Kurt rolls his eyes, but there's less venom than before. He sits in one of the chairs.

"You never blow up like that," Blaine says. "What's wrong?"

Blaine leans back in his seat and folds his hands in his lap. Kurt takes a deep breath and bites his lower lip. His eyes begin to gloss over with tears and a hand comes up to brush them away before they can fall. Kurt looks toward the ceiling to fight back any more tears.

"I can't help you if you won't talk to me," Blaine says softly.

"I know," Kurt says. "It's just…"

He looks at Blaine and freezes. His stunning blue-green eyes are welling up with tears, and there's something else burning through the sadness. Longing, perhaps? As the meaning of Kurt's emotional outburst dawns on him, Blaine lifts his eyebrows in acknowledgement. Kurt gives a small nod. The attraction they've both been ignoring for weeks bubbles over and floods the room.

_Oh._

"Kurt, I…"

"No, I know," he says. "I know."

Kurt looks down and picks at his fingernails. The silence is almost unbearable as it drags out, moments ticking away. Worse still, it gives Blaine time to think. Time in which Blaine's mind fills with every thought he's been trying to quash since early September.

A strand of Kurt's hair falls out of place. _God, he's so beautiful. I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands through his hair._ Kurt bites his lip again. _Is he a good kisser?_ Kurt wraps his arms around himself in a protective gesture. _Does he like to snuggle while watching old movies? I wonder if he's seen Casablanca._ Kurt pulls at the neck of his lopsided sweatshirt. _He'd look good in my green cardigan._ Kurt looks at him with wide eyes. _Why does he have to be so young? Why is life so cruel? I will never find a man as perfect as Kurt._

Blaine clears his throat, breaking the silence harshly. If he keeps dwelling on his pain and desire for Kurt, this will end badly. "Kurt, I should really get back to practice," he says. He tries to swallow down the lump forming in his throat. "Will you join us?"

Kurt's eyes shine brightly again as he shakes his head. "I think I need some time," he says.

"I understand," Blaine replies. "I'll see you tomorrow for our lesson?"

Kurt nods, and Blaine leaves the stifling warmth of his office. He can't be sure if it's his imagination or not, but he thinks he hears muffled sobs coming from behind him. He forces himself to keep walking and bites the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions from spilling over. He's got a job to do. Blaine Anderson is an adult and a professional. Kurt will be fine.

Except the thought of Kurt being hurt shatters his heart. He's barely coherent for the rest of rehearsal.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have taken some liberties here with vocal technique, but it's all in the interest of some wonderful UST, so I hope you'll forgive me.

**Chapter 6**

Kurt waits until he hears Mr. Anderson's footsteps fade down the hallway before he lets everything go. He releases everything he's been feeling since Mr. Anderson sang "Teenage Dream" nearly a month ago. He'd been trying to hold it together for so long, but today he couldn't shake the feeling that Mr. Anderson was completely indifferent to his existence anymore. He lets the sobs take over his body.

He sits in Mr. Anderson's office for a while, just letting the tears fall, slowly relaxing as the rage and the pain leave his body in loud, choked sounds. Kurt knows he has at least 20 minutes before rehearsal is over, so he just lets himself fall apart in the empty office.

How could he be so stupid? Mr. Anderson was not even remotely interested in him. He was being polite and the compliments were just because he's a good teacher. The rest must have been his overactive imagination.

When his body finally quiets, he swipes the back of his hand across his face, sniffles loudly and heads to the choir room to retrieve his bag. He cries a little on the drive home, but by the time he's sitting down to dinner with his dad, Finn, and Carole, his eyes are dry and the puffiness is carefully masked with expensive eye cream and a dab of concealer.

"How's glee practice going, boys?" Carole asks between bites of chicken.

"Pretty good," Finn says. "I almost have the choreography on the first song down."

"That's great, honey," she says, smiling at her son. "Kurt, what about you? Looking forward to your solo?"

"Fine, I'm just a little nervous about it, I guess."

"But that Mr. Anderson, he's helping you, right?" Burt asks.

Kurt flinches at the mention of the name, but no one seems to notice. "Yeah," he says. "I've got it down. He's just helping me strengthen my voice so I'll be more confident."

Finn looks confused for a moment, taking huge bites of potatoes. "You must really be stressed if you yelled at Mr. Anderson like that. Rachel even complimented you on your storm off."

Kurt kicks Finn under the table, earning him a startled yelp and a furrowed brow.

"You yelled at your teacher, Kurt? That's not like you."

Kurt turns to his dad. "I've just been really stressed. Mr. Anderson understands that."

"Well I hope you apologized, kiddo. He's been really nice taking time out of his day to help you."

"Yeah, I know," Kurt says, unable to make eye contact with his dad. What if he sees Kurt's crush on his teacher written all over his face? "I think we're okay. We're still on for our lesson tomorrow."

"Good," Burt says, spearing a green bean. "Make sure you thank him again."

Kurt nods, staring down at his plate and twirling a bean on his fork. As soon as dinner is finished, he escapes to his room and finds three missed texts from Tina.

From Tina (5:02 p.m.)  
 _You ok?_

From Tina (5:37 p.m.)  
 _Rachel volunteered to take your solo if you didn't come back. I thought Mr. A was going to throw her out. Mercedes told her to stuff it._

From Tina (7:12 p.m.)  
 _I hope you're ok. Rachel talked to Finn…but I'd feel better if I heard from you._

From Kurt (7:39 p.m.)  
 _I'm fine. Just stressed about sectionals. Rachel's just being Rachel. Lunch tomorrow?_

From Tina (7:42 p.m)  
 _Sure. Don't make any plans for the Saturday after your birthday. We have serious shopping to do. ;)_

Kurt's 18th birthday is approaching. It's the Monday following sectionals, actually. And he's kind of looking forward to it. He and Tina had been planning a shopping trip to Columbus for the last three months. Since he got his driver's license, his dad had been telling him he couldn't leave the city limits without an adult until he turned 18. Kurt's going to hold him to it.

The thought of spending a day shopping for high end names too big to have stores in Lima distracts him from thoughts of Mr. Anderson just long enough for him to fool himself into thinking he'll get a decent night's sleep. Unfortunately it does little to take away his anxiety at having a one-on-one lesson the next morning, and he doesn't get to sleep until well after 2 a.m.

* * *

Kurt walks into the choir room the following morning looking tired, but dressed to the nines in a well-tailored blazer that accentuates every line of his body. Underneath it he's wearing a dark turtleneck that makes his neck look impossibly longer. His hands are covered in red, fingerless gloves and, as usual, he's wearing jeans that should be illegal in all 50 states for the way they cling to his ass and thighs. Not that Blaine notices.

"Good morning," Blaine says, aiming for nonchalant, and probably landing just this side of flustered. "Ready to get started?"

Kurt nods, a playful smile tickling at the corner of his mouth. Blaine fights the urge to kiss it. He clenches his hands and takes a seat on the piano bench.

"Let's get you warmed up and then we can work on your solo, okay?"

"Sure," Kurt replies, dropping his bag in one of the chairs and taking his place by the piano. He leans one elbow on it lazily and looks across the top of the piano at Blaine. In that moment, Blaine Anderson could have sworn that he actually saw Kurt's eyes twinkle. It was like something out of a cartoon. He chokes on his own breath trying to stifle a laugh at the thought.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asks with genuine concern.

"Uh…yeah. Just, um…hope I'm not coming down with something."

Kurt jerks backward, slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. "I am NOT getting sick this close to competition," he says. If he knew how much he looked and sounded like Rachel Berry in that moment, he might have been horrified. But Kurt is serious.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Blaine reassures him. "Probably my allergies."

Kurt's posture softens a little as he inches toward the piano again. He looks wary, but no longer panicked.

_God, he's adorable when he blinks like that._

Blaine nearly says so out loud and worries for a second that he actually had before Kurt asks which key he should start in.

Blaine manages to stay focused enough to get Kurt through a brief warm up. They run through Kurt's solo piece once, and he's having trouble on the second verse leading into the bridge. The notes aren't really pushing Kurt's range, but it doesn't sound as clear and rich as the rest of the piece.

"Why don't you take it from here?" Blaine says, playing a few notes on the keys.

Kurt sings up to the bridge and when he hits the notes he's having trouble with, Blaine stops playing. "You're still clipping that last bit," he says. "You really need to push from your diaphragm and really use your breath to get through the long note. Like this." Blaine sings it to demonstrate, and Kurt nods. "Let's take it from the same spot," Blaine says. He knows Kurt can do it, but something is holding him back. "Really push this time."

Kurt takes a deep breath and exhales loudly. "I don't know what I'm doing," he says, sounding defeated.

"You've got this," Blaine says, trying to give him an encouraging smile.

Kurt gives a quick nod, and Blaine starts playing the second verse again. Kurt inhales deeply and sings loud and clear, hitting every note just as before. But he's still sounding breathy and weak on notes leading into the bridge. Blaine stops playing and stands up.

"Okay, let's try something else," he says. "I want you to sing that line without the piano." He puts a hand on Kurt's chest right at the base of his sternum. Kurt takes in a sharp breath through his nose. "I'm sorry," Blaine says, pulling his hand back as if it's been burned. "I should have asked first."

"It's okay," Kurt says. "It just caught me off guard. It's fine."

"You sure?"

Kurt nods.

"Okay. I'm just going to put my hand here," Blaine says, placing the palm of his hand flat on Kurt's chest again. Kurt's posture stiffens slightly, but Blaine tries to ignore it and continues. "When you sing, I want you to envision pushing my hand off of you with your breath. Really push, okay?" He pauses for a moment, taking in Kurt's expression. Standing this close, Blaine can make out the freckles dusting Kurt's nose and forehead, and the little flecks of gold in his eyes. And…wow, this really needs to stop.

Blaine clears his throat. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

When Kurt sings, it comes out clear as a bell, rich and full. He's amazingly good at staying on pitch without the accompaniment, but matching pitch has never been his problem. It's always been the tone.

Singing on the upper end of his range comes easy, but it's never sounded like his lower register. Especially when it comes to the fullness of his voice. Blaine knows the judges respond better to a richer tone, like Rachel's mezzo soprano. Mercedes and Santana have even better depth to their voices. And Artie can really belt it out on the right song. But Kurt struggles sometimes. It's what they've been working on all semester. Blaine really wants him to nail it. Not just to win sectionals, but also because Kurt needs to know he can do it.

Blaine can feel every breath Kurt takes as he gets closer to that problematic bridge. Just before he gets there, Kurt looks down and makes eye contact. Blaine smiles and nods encouragingly, hoping Kurt can pull from his confidence in Kurt's abilities.

Kurt sings out, louder than before, and Blaine can feel Kurt pushing against his hand every time he inhales or exhales. He tries to ignore the feeling of Kurt's body heat through the cotton of his turtleneck under his sweaty palm.

And then Kurt _nails_ it. Knocks it clear out of the metaphorical park. His voice sounds rich and complete, and every note is spot on. Blaine breaks into a smile that spreads from ear to ear.

"Oh my god!" Kurt exclaims, grabbing Blaine's hand where it still rests on his chest and bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. "I did it!"

Without thinking, Blaine throws his free arm around Kurt and pulls him in tightly for a hug.

"I knew you could," Blaine says into Kurt's shoulder as he pats him on the back. When he inhales, he takes in the spicy scent of Kurt's cologne. Blaine closes his eyes and savors it before he's even entirely aware that he's doing it.

It's the feel of Kurt's hand against his own, still planted firmly on Kurt's chest, that drags him back to reality. He can feel Kurt's fingers curling into his palm as his hand flexes and then grips tighter. Blaine pulls back sharply and drops his hand from Kurt's chest.

"Sorry," Blaine says. "I guess I just got excited there."

"I did it," Kurt says again, eyes wide.

"You did it," Blaine says smiling. "I knew you could."

Kurt blushes under the praise and dips his head. He picks at the edge of the piano.

"I wish I had that kind of faith in myself," Kurt says softly.

Blaine aches to reach out and take his hand again. He settles for encouraging words.

"You will," Blaine says. "Once you get used to kicking ass like that."

Kurt looks up and laughs. Blaine really loves it when he laughs like that.

_When did I start noticing he has different laughs?_

"Right now I'm just hoping I can hold it together long enough to get through sectionals," Kurt says.

"You will," Blaine says confidently. "And regionals after that."

Kurt hums noncommittally. "I suppose," he says. And then after a beat, "You know, I applied to NYADA?"

"That's a great school," Blaine says. He'd considered it himself when performing was still a priority. Later he'd read about their intense audition process for such a limited number of spots, and he'd decided to look into other possibilities. His original plan had been to get a degree in musical theatre, but even those plans changed when he took a contemporary lit class his sophomore year. The professor had such a unique style of teaching and it inspired him in a way he'd never felt before. He changed his major that same semester.

"When do you find out if you got in?" he asks.

"Probably not until after Christmas break," Kurt replies. "I'm trying not to think about it. I don't even know if I want to go into anything with performing arts."

"Well, it would definitely be an option for you," Blaine says.

"Thanks," Kurt says, looking thoughtful. "I'm not sure what I want."

"I can relate," Blaine says. "I'm still not sure what I want either."

"You don't like teaching?" Kurt asks. He doesn't look shocked, just curious.

"Oh, I love it! But I toyed with the idea of going back to get my PhD…maybe even in music. Teach at the college level." Blaine shrugs. He's never really considered that option seriously. It's just a passing thought from time to time. "Coaching glee club has reminded me how much I missed music."

"I can't imagine not having it in my life," Kurt says. "But it's just I'm not sure I want to try to make a career of it."

"Is there anything you might want to make a career of?" Blaine asks. It's not a teacher asking his student, though. Blaine is genuinely interested in Kurt's answer. Something tells him that Kurt Hummel could accomplish anything he really set his mind to.

"Sometimes I think…" Kurt pauses. "Oh, it's silly."

"Oh come on, tell me."

"Well, I've always thought maybe … fashion?"

"Really?" Blaine asks, raising his eyebrows. He's not shocked; impressed actually.

"I told you it was silly," Kurt says, dragging his eyes across the room and avoiding Blaine's face.

"It's not silly," Blaine says. "I think it's a great idea." _It's hot._

"You really think so?"

"Kurt, you're kind of a walking fashion magazine," Blaine says, gesturing toward Kurt. "Sometimes I wonder if you walked right off a runway and into my class."

Kurt blushes under the praise a little, but holds his head high. "I do have an knack for spotting next season's trends," he says.

"So I've noticed," Blaine says without thinking. "I mean…well, you know. It's just…I kind of enjoy fashion myself." He's rambling now and Kurt looks like he's fighting a laugh, and Blaine really wants to make him laugh again.

"I do kind of have a problem with bow ties," he says playfully. "If I go more than a couple of days without wearing one? Withdrawals … It's _terrible_."

Kurt breaks into a full laugh this time, eyes lighting up.

"You do kind of have an addiction," he says between laughs.

Blaine laughs at that because it's true. He can't pass up a good bow tie. "Kind of like your addiction to boots?" he teases.

"Hey, boots happen to be very versatile! And I _kill_ it in them." Kurt's expression is haughty as he teases.

Blaine fights the urge to say "you more than kill it," and instead settles for. "I really like the white ones." As if that's any less creepy.

"Those are kind of my favorite," Kurt confesses. "I have to stop myself from wearing them too often. Don't want to become stale."

"Heaven forbid," Blaine says. He loves the back-and-forth of their conversation. It flows so freely and he'd been dying to talk fashion with Kurt.

"I really like your grey sweater," Kurt says. "The one from Barneys. You were wearing it your first day."

"You remember that?"

"Absolutely, I'd been drooling over it myself that very morning."

"It was a gift," Blaine says. "My mom feeds my other addiction."

Kurt raises an eyebrow in question, causing Blaine to stage whisper, "Cardigans."

That gets him another laugh from Kurt, and Blaine feels warmth spread from the tips of his ears all the way to his toes. He could listen to Kurt laugh for ages.

"Not many people can pull off the grandpa look," Kurt says. "I applaud you." He claps his hands together lightly. Blaine takes a small bow.

"Why thank you," he says, smiling at Kurt with true affection. He can't stop himself from letting it show this time, and he really doesn't want to. Kurt's smile is small, but warm and he looks like he's thinking about something. Blaine opens his mouth to ask him if he has something on his mind, and the bell rings.

"That went by fast," Kurt says.

Blaine nods in agreement. "We should get to class."

They grab their bags and head for room 265. Blaine has to fight the urge to thread his arm through Kurt's where it's bent at the elbow gripping the strap of his bag.

* * *

Two days before Kurt's 18th birthday, New Directions wins sectionals. They easily defeat Aural Intensity and the Madrigals. Kurt's solo wasn't flawless, but it was really, really good. Even Santana congratulated him.

The bus ride back to McKinley is noisy and the mood celebratory, but Kurt sits alone toward the front of the bus, looking out the window, deep in thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Tina says, taking the empty seat beside Kurt.

"Oh, I'm just letting it all sink in," he says.

It's a lie, but Tina's smile tells him she believes it, or at the very least, is letting him get away with it. He smiles back.

"A bunch of us are talking about going to Breadstix after. Did you want to come?"

"Sounds like fun," Kurt says. "I'll think about it."

"Great," Tina says. "I'm going to get back to Mike. You look like you want to be left alone."

Kurt thanks the stars for Tina's perceptive qualities. He really doesn't feel like talking, despite his good mood. Tina stands up to return to her seat near the back of the bus and makes it three steps before turning back.

"You were really great today, Kurt," she says.

"Thanks," Kurt says, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He blinks to keep them from spilling over and smiles at his friend. "You were too."

Tina's hair fans out behind her as she turns on the spot and practically bounces back to her seat. Kurt moves to return his gaze to the window, but Mr. Anderson's profile catches his eye. He's sitting across the aisle from Kurt, his head leaning on the cool glass of the bus window with a small smile on his lips. He looks happy and wistful all at once and it makes Kurt's heart clench in an unexpected way. He sighs and tears himself away before his staring becomes creepy. He doesn't look back over for the rest of the trip back to McKinley, so he misses the little glances the teacher keeps giving him.

By the time they pull into the parking lot, Kurt has decided he doesn't want to go out with the group, so he tells Tina he'll see her on Monday at school. Finn has disappeared somehow, so Kurt texts him to tell him he'll need the car. When he hasn't gotten a response after 10 minutes and most everyone else has gone home, Kurt texts Finn again: _I'll just call dad to come get me._

He figures it's safer than waiting for Finn to check his messages. And Tina will be able to tell Finn that he went home. Kurt scrolls through his contacts to find his dad's number.

"Shit." The familiar voice using a profanity catches his attention.

Kurt looks to his left and sees Mr. Anderson kicking at one of his front tires. On a closer look, Kurt sees that it's completely flat.

"Car trouble?" Kurt asks, even though the answer is obvious. He walks toward his teacher, who is standing with his hands on his hips, muttering something Kurt can't quite make out under his breath.

"Flat tire," Mr. Anderson says, gesturing toward the offending tire. "They're the worst."

"Not if you know how to change them," Kurt says. "Do you have a spare?"

"In the trunk…wait, you know how to change a flat?"

"Mmmhmm. My dad owns a tire shop," Kurt says as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

Mr. Anderson looks impressed. Kurt pulls up proudly, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"Way to break the stereotype," Mr. Anderson says.

Kurt rolls his eyes, but there's no fire in it. "Do you want some help or not?"

"Seriously?" Mr. Anderson asks, still looking a bit surprised that Kurt not only knows how to change a tire, but is offering to help him. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all," Kurt says. "It's the least I can do after all the help you gave me with my solo."

"That's my _job_ , Kurt. You don't owe me anything."

"Still," Kurt says with a shrug. He starts digging through his bag and grumbling something about Marc Jacobs bags having too many pockets. "Aha! There you are."

He pulls out a simple gray t-shirt that looks like it's never been worn, and Mr. Anderson tilts his head to the side in question.

"I'm not changing a tire in this," Kurt says, gesturing at his flawlessly styled outfit that he had changed into as soon as the competition was over. "I'll be right back."

Kurt takes off toward the school to change his shirt. No way he's undressing in front of Mr. Anderson.

* * *

Blaine watches Kurt leave, and smiles to himself. New Directions won sectionals. Kurt is happy. No one got in a fight. Yeah, things are definitely good.

When Kurt returns five minutes later, he's dressed in the least amount of layers Blaine's ever seen him in. The t-shirt that had looked simple being tugged from the bottom of Kurt's bag now clings snugly to Kurt's chest, arms, and shoulders. Blaine tries not to look below Kurt's neck, but the fabric is snug and looks very soft, and… _Focus, Blaine._

Kurt sets to work right away, pulling the jack from the trunk along with the spare tire. It takes some work to get the lug nuts off because they had been put on with an air drill before, but eventually Kurt manages. Not without Blaine noticing the way his thighs flex when he bends over and uses his whole body as leverage on the wrench he's using to loosen the nuts.

Watching Kurt crawl around on the ground and do physical labor is probably not the best scenario for Blaine's overactive imagination, so he tries making idle conversation.

"I'm supposed to be the adult here," he says with a nervous laugh. "You're showing me up."

"Don't worry, Mr. Anderson. I won't tell anyone," Kurt teases. He reaches up to wipe sweat from his brow with his forearm, and Blaine goes wide-eyed at the way his bicep flexes. Kurt really shouldn't wear so many layers all the time.

"Uh, when was the last time you checked your oil, Mr. Anderson?" Kurt asks, crouching down low and leaning as far forward as he can from his crouched position. Blaine tries desperately not to look at his ass.

"Probably about …" Blaine trails off because he can't remember. "Wow, you know, must have been before I moved back to Ohio. So maybe…four, five months? Why?"

"Looks like you may have a small leak," Kurt says. "Here…see?" He points under the passenger's side tire toward the front of the car. Blaine bends over Kurt to see where he's pointing and sees a tiny dark spot on the pavement below his car.

"Oh yeah," he says. "I see it." Blaine pulls back and this time, he can't stop himself from taking in the view. Every muscle along the back side of Kurt's body is on perfect display. He's not overly muscular, but he's strong, and the dancing from glee rehearsals have given him a lean body with well-defined lines.

Blaine briefly considers writing poetry about the perfection that is Kurt's ass. He's trying to think of a synonym for ass that might sound classier when the sound of Kurt's voice brings him back to reality.

"You should bring it by my dad's shop," Kurt says. "Have him take a look at it for you. I can get him to give you a deal."

"You don't have to do that, Kurt."

"I know," he says, looking up at Blaine from the ground with warm, friendly look in his eyes. "I want to."

Blaine smiles down at him and says, "thank you." Kurt turns back to the car and finishes tightening the lug nuts.

"All finished," he says, making a show of dusting his hands off. "Nothing to it."

Blaine reaches out his hand. "Here," he says. "Let me help you up."

When Kurt takes it, Blaine tugs firmly on his hand and pulls Kurt to his feet. Perhaps it's a little more enthusiastic than Kurt expected, because he comes up so quickly that he knocks Blaine back a step and falls into his arms.

"Whoa," Blaine says. "You'll get a head rush coming up that quickly."

Kurt is laughing and apologizing and looking completely adorable with a smudge of dirt across his nose. Without thinking, Blaine reaches up and swipes at it with his index finger. Kurt's eyes lock onto his, bringing the laughter to an abrupt halt. He blinks at Blaine, a shocked look on his face.

"Uh, you had some dirt," Blaine says, suddenly acutely aware that he's holding Kurt in his arms from when he had toppled into him and he can feel Kurt's breath on his cheek.

"Thanks," Kurt says, unmoving.

They stay like that for a moment, neither one speaking or moving, the sound of their breath punctuating the silence, searching each others' faces for…something.

Blaine's mind catches up with the situation eventually and he starts to release his grip. But Kurt surges forward and presses his lips firmly to Blaine's. The force of the movement makes Blaine stagger on his feet and he has to step forward to keep his balance, but that only serves to keep his lips connected to Kurt's a bit longer. Blaine doesn't mind, though, not really. Kurt's lips are warm and soft, and something about it feels like he's been waiting for this moment his entire life.

He thinks he hears Kurt let out a small whimper and Blaine wonders if he felt it too. That exquisite feeling like he's coming home to something that was always waiting for him, but he didn't know he was missing until now.

_Oh don't be crazy, Blaine._

And suddenly there's something niggling in the back of his mind that finally compels him to pull away from Kurt and end the kiss. He knows he'll probably regret it, but he can't let it continue.

"Oh my god!" Kurt says, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. "I'm so sorry! I don't know what I was thinking!"

Blaine feels torn between kissing Kurt again and running away, but he's rooted to the concrete beneath his feet. He wants to reach out to comfort Kurt, whose distress is clear in the way he's hugging one arm tight to his body, while still covering his mouth with his hand. Blaine really just wants to put a hand on his shoulder, rub the back of his neck…anything, but he knows he shouldn't.

"It's alright, Kurt," he says softly. "No harm done."

"No harm done?" Kurt shouts. "I kissed you!"

"Well, true…no denying that. But we're both still in one piece. It's okay."

Blaine might as well be trying to convince himself as much as Kurt. Truth is, he's panicking because he really enjoyed that kiss, and he's not yet ready to think about what that might mean. Right now he just needs to focus on calming Kurt down and getting the hell out of there.

Kurt is breathing heavily and staring at Blaine with wide, terrified eyes. He looks like he might cry at any moment. But he doesn't say anything. Blaine looks around the parking lot, and it occurs to him he hadn't seen Finn since they unloaded the bus.

"Kurt, do you have a ride home?" he asks.

"Shit," Kurt says. "No. I was going to call my dad. Finn took the car."

Blaine sighs. He may end up regretting this, but it looks like the quickest way to get out of close proximity to Kurt is going to be voluntarily put himself in an even more awkward position.

"Come on," he says. "I'll take you home."

Blaine feels suddenly exhausted, and he wants nothing more than some time to process this. And maybe a dozen or so beers. He grabs the jack from the ground and throws it in the trunk, closing it with a thud.

"Mr. Anderson, I…"

"Don't argue, Kurt. Just get in the car."

Without a word, Kurt grabs his bag from where he'd left it on the curb and opens the passenger door to Blaine's car. By the time he has his seatbelt in place, Blaine is already turning the engine over and pulling out of the parking lot.

He just needs to get Kurt home — as quickly as possible — and then he can go back to his place and drink himself into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are my life's blood. Please leave one or both if you are so inclined. I swear I don't bite...unless you're into that sort of thing. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt feels as if his skin is going to explode. Why did he kiss Mr. Anderson? Why? And now he's stuck in a car with him, trying not to die of embarrassment while the awkward silence threatens to suffocate him.

"Take a right," he says, directing his teacher to his house.

Mr. Anderson hums his acknowledgement and bites down on his lip as he takes the turn. He looks like he's trying to figure out the right way to say something. Kurt kind of hopes he can't find his words because the idea of talking about what just happened makes him want to crawl under the seat and through the floorboards of the car and onto the pavement below them.

"Kurt, I think we should talk about this," Mr. Anderson says.

Kurt always did have the worst luck.

"I'd really rather not," Kurt says, looking back out the window and pulling his lips into a tight line. "It's fine. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"Kurt," Mr. Anderson says, glancing over at Kurt. "Please talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?' he asks, jerking his head back toward Mr. Anderson. "I just _kissed_ my English teacher in my high school's parking lot and now I'm having to endure a thoroughly embarrassing interaction with him while he drives me home. So excuse me if I'm not feeling particularly chatty about reliving the most humiliating experience of my entire life. And that includes being thrown in a dumpster and slushied in the same day, so that's _really_ saying something!"

He sees something tense in Mr. Anderson's face and he wishes he could take it all back. He's ruined the relationship he had with his teacher and all because he couldn't keep his stupid hormones under control.

Mr. Anderson's shoulders jerk up toward his ears with a deep breath. He exhales slowly as he pulls the car into a strip mall parking lot. Once the car is in park, he turns to face Kurt. The look on his face is determined, but kind.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," he says, looking back toward the dashboard. His shoulders sag heavily and he slumps over the steering wheel, gripping it tightly with his hands. "I shouldn't have let it happen."

Kurt reaches out to place a hand on Mr. Anderson's shoulder and stops just shy of placing it there. He curls his hand into a fist and lets it fall to his lap.

"It's not your fault," Kurt says.

"It's not yours either," Mr. Anderson says, looking up quickly. His eyes are shining with unshed tears. He reaches out and places a hand on Kurt's knee. The shock of the unexpected contact draws Kurt's eyes down to look at the strong hand now resting on his leg, and he wishes he could reach out to take it in his own. Mr. Anderson's gaze follows Kurt's downward and he takes in a sharp breath. Kurt looks up to Mr. Anderson's face at the sound. When Mr. Anderson looks up too, their eyes connect with the sharp intensity of emotion they've both been trying to avoid.

"Don't you feel that?" Kurt asks, searching Mr. Anderson's face for some sort of recognition. "I feel it every time we're together."

Mr. Anderson closes his eyes.

"Kurt, I can't answer that question."

"Why not?"

Mr. Anderson shifts uncomfortably in his seat, bringing both his hands back to the steering wheel and twisting it underneath his palms. He stares out the windshield as if the answer to Kurt's question is on the hood of the SUV parked in front of them. He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath.

"If I answer that question, I won't be able to take it back. And right now, I just need to get you home and try to forget that this happened."

"Fine," Kurt says. He looks away from Mr. Anderson and purses his lips in anger. His embarrassment burns hot on his cheeks and he doesn't want Mr. Anderson to see his distress. "Just take me home."

The interior of the car is silent for a moment, and Kurt can feel Mr. Anderson's eyes boring into the back of his head, but he refuses to break. If he makes eye contact now, he'll lose his composure. He'd bared his soul to this beautiful man sitting beside him, and he'd been shot down. He just needs to get out of the car and into the safety of his bedroom. The routine of showering, deep conditioning his hair, and spending an hour on moisturizing his skin will calm his raw nerves. He just needs to get home.

The rumble of the engine turning over startles Kurt a little, but he hides his flinch behind a cough.

They don't speak again, apart from Kurt giving directions every few blocks. When Mr. Anderson's car pulls in Kurt's driveway, he's yanking open the door before it's even fully stopped.

Kurt throws back a terse, "See you Monday," as he slams the door shut behind him. He practically runs up to the front door and as soon as he's inside, he slumps against the hard wood and closes his eyes, exhaling a ragged breath.

* * *

Blaine clenches and unclenches his fists, trying desperately to stop his hands from shaking. It took him every ounce of strength not to confess to Kurt that he felt the same way, and the stress of it all finally hits him.

It takes him a few moments to pull himself together and pull out of the Hummels' driveway, and when he does, he drives himself to the liquor store down the street from his apartment and buys a case of beer and a large bottle of vodka. He's on his second shot of vodka and his third beer when he calls Wes.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, young Mr. Anderson?"

"He kissss'd me," Blaine mumbles.

"Are you drunk?"

"Iss jus a cuppla beers," Blaine manages to get out. " 'm fine. Fine."

"Wait….you said he kissed you?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Who kissed you?"

"Kurt."

"Kurt?!"

"Yep. Juss jumped right in annnn kissss'd me," Blaine says almost matter-of-factly. "On the mouth."

"Oh god…Blaine, did anyone see you?"

"Nope," he says, proud of himself for not getting caught. "Totally alone. He was changing a flat on my car, annnn he had some dirt on his nose. He really has a cute nose. So I wiped it off, annnnn he kisss'd me."

"Blaine what are you going to do?" Wes sounds concerned, and Blaine knows he should have an answer, but the buzz he's feeling from the vodka and beer are numbing his senses and he can't feel or think about anything but the warm, fuzzy feeling in his belly and the smell of Kurt, sweaty and sweet, in his arms.

"I'm gonna have another beer," Blaine mumbles. "And maybe another one affffer that."

Blaine smiles. Beer is good. He feels good.

"God, you're a mess," Wes says.

"Am not," Blaine protests. "I jusss need to forget about today."

"Blaine, I think you've had enough. Can you just go lay down and call me tomorrow when you've sobered up?"

"Shhhhhure thing, buddy. Buddy boy. You're my boy, Wesssssley."

"Shut up, Blaine. Go get some coffee."

"I like coffee."

"Good. Go drink some…and stay away from Kurt."

"I like Kurt," Blaine says as he presses the "end call" button on his phone. He grabs another beer and flops down on his sofa. "Kurt is nice," he mumbles to himself.

He wakes up in the same spot Sunday morning to a coffee table filled with empty beer bottles and an overwhelming throbbing in his skull. He barely makes it to the bathroom before he empties the mostly liquid contents of his stomach into the toilet.

As he sits up, reality comes crashing in. Kurt kissed him. And he liked it.

_Fuck._

* * *

Two days after he kissed Mr. Anderson, Kurt turns 18. He finds a gift in his locker after lunch that no one will claim. It's a stunning silk bow tie that matches the strange blue-green color of Kurt's eyes. It seems to shift with the light but without a tacky iridescent sheen.

He opens it in glee and Rachel leans over him to inquire about it.

"It's a gift," he says.

"From whom?"

"No clue," he says, with a shrug.

"Ooooh, you have a secret admirer!" Rachel shrieks.

He can see Mr. Anderson fidgeting and pretending to organize some sheet music at the piano. He's trying to look like he's not listening, but Kurt sees a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth at Rachel's words.

_No. It couldn't be._

Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place. A bow tie. He's almost certain none of his friends had given it to him. And Mr. Anderson is the only other person at McKinley he'd ever seen in a bow tie.

_No, that seems ridiculous._

"Come on, Rachel. Don't be ridiculous. It was probably Tina or something."

"What was probably Tina?" Tina says as she walks into the room.

"Kurt thinks you got him that bow tie," Rachel says, pointing at the package in Kurt's hands.

"Nope not me," Tina says. "I've got your gift right here." She hands him a small, wrapped package. "Mercedes?"

"No," Kurt says. "I asked her when I found it. And no one else has my locker combo."

"Secret admirer," Rachel singsongs with a smug expression. "Told you."

"Shut up," Kurt says, catching sight of Mr. Anderson stifling a giggle behind his hand.

Kurt raises an eyebrow in curiosity as Mr. Anderson tries to get the group's attention. He doesn't make eye contact, but Kurt barely takes his eyes of him for the entire rehearsal. When they wrap an hour later, Kurt tries to catch Mr. Anderson's attention, but Rachel and Mercedes each grab an arm and usher him out of the choir room insisting they have a "lady chat-slash-sleepover" in honor of Kurt's birthday.

He looks over his shoulder on the way out of the room and catches a quick glance of Mr. Anderson. He's staring after them with a sad sort of longing on his face. Kurt offers a small smile and allows himself to be pulled along by his friends. Brittany and Tina catch up to them in the hallway.

* * *

Blaine had acted on impulse buying Kurt that bow tie, and again when he slipped it into Kurt's locker. Okay, maybe not total impulse because he'd had to look up the combination and manage to sneak it in during his free period. So maybe a little thought had gone into it. But he couldn't bring himself to give it to Kurt in person. _That_ would be too much.

He originally bought it with the intent of wearing it himself, but when he realized it would bring out the color of Kurt's eyes, he decided he would rather pass it on to his favorite student. Except he wasn't supposed to have favorite students. And he definitely wasn't supposed to give them gifts after they kissed him.

But it was his birthday. And besides, what's done is done … and god if he didn't look exquisite when he walked into the choir room Monday afternoon. Blaine stands near the piano organizing the sheet music for their first post-sectionals rehearsal when he hears Rachel ask Kurt about the bow tie.

Blaine fights back a smile as they all try to speculate where it had come from, and he tries to look like he's not listening in, but he really wants to know what Kurt thinks of the gift. Blaine only hears enough to know that Kurt has no idea who gave it to him, and he breathes a sigh of relief. When Kurt gets dragged out of the room at the end of rehearsal, he tries to mask his disappointment that he didn't get to wish Kurt a happy birthday in person.

But then Kurt shows up for their lesson the next day actually wearing his gift. Blaine can't help but smile when he sees it.

"Nice bow tie," Blaine says.

Kurt's eyes go wide for a moment before he breaks into a smile. "It was a birthday present," he says.

"Is today your birthday?" he asks, knowing full well that Kurt had turned 18 the day before.

"Yesterday," Kurt says. "I'm 18 now."

Blaine wonders if he's imagined the hope in Kurt's eyes at that admission, as if that would somehow make everything okay.

"Happy Birthday," is all Blaine can get out without giving everything away. If he keeps talking, he'll be confessing his feelings for Kurt in less than two minutes.

"Thanks," Kurt says, his face only falling slightly as he continues. "So, have you decided what songs we might try for regionals?"

"I'm working on some ideas," Blaine replies. "Why? Did you have an idea?"

Kurt's eyes light up as he nods enthusiastically. "Le Jazz Hot," he says. "From 'Victor/Victoria.' "

"Oh," Blaine says. "That's … different."

Kurt's face falls, an angry frown causing his brow to furrow. "You don't like it."

"No, Kurt…it's just not what I was expecting. Um…let's see what the group thinks, okay?"

Kurt huffs out a harsh breath in exasperation. "Fine. We should get started." He slams his bag down on the piano and refuses to make eye contact. Blaine just sits down and flexes his fingers to start warming Kurt up on his scales. He's not sure what he's done wrong, but he doesn't want to argue with Kurt, and it's probably better if they just stick to vocal lessons.

When the lesson is over, Kurt grabs his bag from the piano and leaves the room before Blaine can get up from the bench. Kurt refuses to make eye contact during first period, and Blaine doesn't see him again until just after fifth period. Blaine is coming out of the auditorium from giving a midterm to his Acting II class when he spots Kurt at the end of the hallway.

Kurt's crisp white shirt is stained a splotchy pink and a sticky, red liquid is dripping from his hair, chest, and back onto the floor beneath him as he roots through his locker. Blaine feels something hot and protective burn in his chest at the sight. All he can think of is helping Kurt.

* * *

Kurt had been coming out of his fifth period class, mind caught up in the disaster of a vocal lesson he'd had earlier with Mr. Anderson when he gets hit in the face by a jolt of sticky, cherry-flavored ice. He never sees his attackers, just hears their cackling as they retreat down the hallway, high fiving and congratulating themselves for "nailing the homo."

Even covered in slushy, Kurt can appreciate the irony in that statement as he shakes some of the mess from his hair. He reaches up to swipe his fingers over his eyes before the sugar has a chance to make them burn. He sighs heavily and heads for his locker to get his change of clothes and the towel he started keeping there as part of his "emergency kit" his freshman year.

"Kurt, are you okay?"

He looks up to see Mr. Anderson looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. Perfect. As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"Just some Neanderthals," he says, dismissing the seriousness of the situation. "I just need to get cleaned up, and I'll be good as new." He gives Mr. Anderson his best cheery smile, forced as it may be.

"Come on," Mr. Anderson says, placing a hand between Kurt's shoulder blades and steering him toward the restroom. Kurt tries not to shiver at the touch. "Let's get you cleaned up, and then we'll go see Figgins."

Kurt knows that the principal, like so many times before, won't do anything, but he goes along with Mr. Anderson because he does need to get the slushy out of his hair before it turns him into a redhead. He shudders as he remembers a time his sophomore year when the tips of his hair had been stained blue for a week.

Mr. Anderson opens the door and takes Kurt's bag from him as he ushers him inside the empty bathroom. Sixth period had begun two minutes ago, and the halls and bathrooms are once again quiet.

"What happened?" Mr. Anderson asks once they're inside.

"The usual," Kurt says. "I offended the jocks again."

Mr. Anderson raises an eyebrow in question as Kurt lets out a harsh laugh.

"By existing," he says with a look that says the answer should be obvious.

"Kurt, you shouldn't have to put up with that. No one should."

"Yeah, well…it's all part of good ol' McKinley High. Slushies…dumpster diving. Welcome to my life."

"Kurt…"

"Mr. Anderson, I appreciate your concern, but I'd really just like to get cleaned up and changed."

"Sure," he says, looking tentative and uncomfortable.

Kurt sets his emergency kit in the sink to his left and leans over the basin in front of him. He turns on the water to let it warm up so he can rinse his hair. It's easier this way. If he rinses his hair before he does anything else, it will be mostly dry by the time he puts on his clean shirt and it won't drip all over.

"You've really got that down to a science," Mr. Anderson says watching him pull a towel and a clean shirt out of his kit. He sets a tube of moisturizer and some hair spray on the ledge in front of the mirror.

"It's happened a few times," Kurt says removing his vest and bow tie almost automatically. "You learn to be prepared."

He looks down at the blue silk and frowns at the streaks of purple caused by the drying slushy. He sets it on the edge of the sink and starts to unbutton his shirt. He's wondering if he's got a spare undershirt in his emergency kit when he hears Mr. Anderson gasp beside him. He looks to his left to find his teacher staring wide-eyed at him, his mouth hanging open as his chest heaves visibly.

"Are you alri– …. OH!" Kurt rushes to cover himself as it dawns on him that he's completely naked from the waist up. "Oh gosh! Sorry!"

Mr. Anderson averts his eyes and shifts on the spot, his hands flailing as he tries to figure out what to do with them. He settles for crossing them over his chest, and Kurt can't help but think he looks like he's cradling himself in a comforting hug.

"Just give me a second and I'll just…" Kurt is quickly wiping his towel over his chest and back to get at the bit of liquid that had seeped through his layers and quickly moves to put on his clean shirt. Kurt's heart is racing as his mind screams at him.

_Naked. I'm practically naked in front of Mr. Anderson._

"There," he says finally. "Crisis averted." _More or less._

He can feel a hot blush covering his face and neck, and he can't bring himself to look at his teacher.

"Will you be alright?" Mr. Anderson asks after a bit.

Kurt looks up to meet bright, honey eyes. _When had Mr. Anderson gotten so close?_ He clears his throat. "I think so."

"We should get to Figgins' office," he says, holding out Kurt's bag for him to take. "I'll wait outside for you while you finish up?"

Kurt nods, and a few strands of his product-free hair flop down on his forehead. He looks up and bites his bottom lip, acutely aware that he's not as pulled together as he'd like to be. Before he can reach up to fix it, he feels Mr. Anderson's hand in his hair. Kurt hears himself take in a quick breath, causing Mr. Anderson to drop his hand. He pulls back so quickly, it's as if he's been burned. He meets Kurt's eyes looking terrified and apologetic. He works his mouth, but no words come out.

"Thanks for the bow tie," Kurt says softly. "I'm sorry it got ruined."

"I didn't…I mean…"

"It's okay," he says. "I know it was you."

"I really shouldn't have done that," Mr. Anderson says, looking at his feet. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Don't say that," Kurt says, placing his hand on his teacher's cheek and forcing eye contact. "I loved it."

Mr. Anderson smiles at him, and it sends a flutter to Kurt's midsection. They both stay like that for a moment, and Kurt feels the inexplicable tug again. His heart aches for this perfect man standing across from him. Mr. Anderson's eyes flutter closed and he inhales deeply through his nose. Kurt considers leaning in to kiss him, but Mr. Anderson's voice stops him.

"I felt it," Mr. Anderson says, his voice breathy and low. "I felt it that very first day."

"Felt what?" Kurt asks.

Mr. Anderson's eyes are closed as Kurt's hand strokes his cheek.

"This crazy, intense chemistry," he says, opening his eyes slowly. "And then later, it felt like a rope tied to my waist pulling me toward you."

"Me too," Kurt says.

"And the more I fought it, the stronger it got," Mr. Anderson adds, looking sad again.

"Do you feel it now?" Kurt asks.

"Yes."

"Me too," Kurt adds, smiling.

"I know," Mr. Anderson says. "I know."

"So now what?" Kurt asks, looking hopeful.

"I don't know," he replies, his face looking earnest. "I just don't know."

And then he surges forward, claiming Kurt's lips in a desperate kiss.


	8. Chapter 8

Amidst the feel of tongue and lips and … perfection, Blaine can't help but hear Wes' voice in his head. _Separate yourself. Slippery slope. Hormones. You need to get laid._

"Oh god," Blaine says, shoving Kurt away. "What am I doing? This can't be happening. I can't do this."

He looks at Kurt, tears beginning to fall. Kurt's face contorts in pain as soon as Blaine pulls away, and he looks so confused and small in that moment. Blaine can't help himself. He reaches for Kurt, almost on instinct and pulls him into a tight hug, not even bothering to think about what it would look like if someone walked in.

"I'm sorry, Kurt…so so _so_ sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Please don't," Kurt pleads, his voice muffled in the fabric of Blaine's shirt. "Don't apologize. It makes it sound like a mistake. Something to be ashamed of."

"It _was_ a mistake," Blaine says with a heavy voice.

"Don't say that," Kurt says, squeezing Blaine tighter. "Like it didn't mean anything. You know it did. You said you felt it too."

"That doesn't make it right, Kurt."

"Maybe not, but it doesn't make it wrong, either," he says. "Not entirely."

"How are you so wise?" Blaine asks, a fond smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Just one of my many charms," Kurt teases.

"See?" Blaine says. "Like that. You just say these things and I…"

"You what?" Kurt asks, tilting his head up to look at Blaine.

"I lose my mind, Kurt. We shouldn't be doing this." He leans his head on Kurt and inhales the smell of his damp hair. The scent of cherry still lingers, but he can also detect a hint of the spicy smell he remembers from Saturday.

"What are we doing?" Kurt asks. It's clear he means "what are we and where is this going," but he may as well have asked Blaine the answer to life itself.

"I don't know," Blaine says. He leans back and grips Kurt by the shoulders. "The only thing I do know is I've wanted to kiss you for weeks. And now that I've done it, I don't want to stop."

"I don't want to stop either."

Kurt leans forward and presses his lips to Blaine's, tentatively. It's that uncertainty that gives Blaine the courage to speak.

"Kurt, we have to."

"Why?" Kurt asks, eyes pleading with Blaine. Pleading for Blaine to … love him. Take care of him. Be with him.

"You know why," Blaine says, his voice thick with emotion.

"So we'll be discreet," Kurt says, sounding his age again. "You can't tell me you could just walk away from this. You can't."

"I can try."

"You'll fail."

"Do you really have so little faith in me?" Blaine asks, trying to sound lighthearted, but knowing it falls short.

"No, I just know what this feels like, and I know I couldn't stay away now if I tried. Besides, you tried already; you said so. And look where that's gotten us."

"Making out in the bathroom?"

"Making out in the bathroom." Kurt leans in and places a soft kiss on the corner of Blaine's mouth. His eyes flutter closed.

"Kurt, this is never going to work," Blaine says, breaking away from Kurt's lips, but keeping his eyes closed and his mouth a hair's breadth from Kurt's. His voice is a gentle, deep whisper. "And I could lose my job."

"I won't let that happen," Kurt says. "Promise. Just…give me a chance? Please, Blaine."

Blaine's eyes fly open. It's the first time Kurt has called him anything but Mr. Anderson. And the sound of his given name on Kurt's lips rings in his ears like music. Blaine takes Kurt's cheek in his palm and surges forward to kiss him again. This time Kurt pushes back and when Blaine's mouth falls open, he lets his tongue brush against Blaine's.

Blaine has a fleeting thought about stopping, but realizes quickly there's no turning back. Kurt's right. He can't fight this anymore. And he no longer wants to.

* * *

Kurt is flying high for days after Mr. Anderson — Blaine — kissed him. He feels himself breaking into a ridiculously large grin at random moments, and it hasn't gone unnoticed by his friends, especially Mercedes.

"Is there a sale on scarves or something? You look positively giddy," Mercedes remarks to Kurt on their way to third period.

"What?" Kurt asks distractedly. "Uh, no. I'm just…happy, I guess."

"Well, I wish you'd share whatever Kool-Aid you're drinking because I can find nothing to smile about in this place." She scowls at a couple making out to her left and steps over a discarded soda can. "I mean, look around us, Kurt. It's not exactly Utopia."

"Oh lighten up, Mercedes. It's Friday, and we don't have school Monday. It's a good day."

"OK, that's it. After class we are headed straight to the nurse's office because you must be running a fever," she says, placing the back of her hand against Kurt's cheek. He pulls away from her touch and smiles fondly at her.

"Can't I just be in a good mood for once?" Kurt asks. But the truth is, he can't imagine ever being in a _bad_ mood again. After their moment in the bathroom, Kurt and Blaine had spent all of sixth period talking about their situation and how they could make it work. Blaine insisted it wouldn't work; Kurt insisted it would. In the end, Blaine agreed to meet up with Kurt over the long weekend so they could talk about it uninterrupted.

"I'm happy you're in a good mood, Kurt, but I still say something's up with you."

Kurt smiles at Mercedes and bumps her shoulder. "I think my cynicism has started rubbing off on you."

* * *

Thanks to an early cold front, Blaine's hands are shaking from the cold as he enters his apartment Friday afternoon. And maybe also a little from nerves. Kurt is coming over to talk about their "situation," and he's worried about being alone with him. Their discussion in the bathroom after their kiss had largely been Kurt trying to convince Blaine that a relationship between them, while problematic, wasn't entirely wrong because "clearly their connection transcends social norms."

Blaine isn't convinced. Although he's certain he has feelings for Kurt, he's not sure he wants to act on those feelings any further. In fact, he knows he can't. But whenever he and Kurt are together, he finds himself wanting things he knows he shouldn't. And he wants _so_ much. Even the little things like holding Kurt's hand, or stroking his hair.

He's had to watch himself all week not to reach out during glee practice and rub Kurt's shoulders when he looked tense or fix a stray hair while he's taking a quiz. On Wednesday, he caught himself staring at the long line of Kurt's legs crossed under his desk. And on Thursday during Kurt's vocal lesson, Blaine had intentionally leaned over Kurt to reach for a sheet of music just to take in the boy's scent.

But Blaine refuses to act on his feelings. Again.

Yet he finds himself rushing about his tiny apartment fluffing pillows, tossing out junk mail, and straightening stacks of magazines. All the while, wondering why he's doing it.

"It's not a date," he says to himself for the third time since he got home.

He's debating whether he should light a candle to freshen the air and get out some of the stuffiness of the old building that never quite seems to dissipate. Ultimately, he decides against it because again, "It's not a date."

Wes had called Blaine several times since Saturday to check up on him. But Blaine had kept the conversation to lighter topics as much as possible and kept assuring Wes that he had no intentions of pursuing a relationship with Kurt.

_Then why does this feel like a date?_

A sharp knock at the door jolts him from his internal self-flagellation. Blaine opens it to find a shivering Kurt, looking absolutely perfect in a thick scarf and well-fitted coat.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," Kurt replies, unable to keep a smile from his face. Blaine takes in Kurt's flushed face, his cheeks bright pink from the cold, and he wonders briefly if his face reddens like that when he... _Stop it, Blaine._

"Are you going to invite me in, or did you want to say hello again?" Kurt teases.

"Oh…right," Blaine says with a nervous laugh. "Please, come in." He gestures toward his small living room. Kurt walks past him and starts to unwind his thick, oatmeal-colored scarf from his neck. He unbuttons his coat and circles around to take in his surroundings.

"It's nice," he says, stripping off his coat.

Blaine reaches forward to take it from him, hanging it on a hook by the door.

"It's alright," he says, running a hand through the back of his hair and shifting his gaze to the floor. The carpet suddenly looks shabby beneath Kurt's perfectly shined shoes, and Blaine wonders why he didn't think to vacuum earlier. When he looks up, Kurt has his back to Blaine, perusing some old photographs on the bookshelves.

"Is this you?" he asks, pointing to a grainy photo of a small, curly-haired boy riding a bike while a gangly, but unfairly attractive teenager cheers him on.

"Yep," Blaine says, walking closer to Kurt. He shoves his hands into his pockets to keep from touching him, but he stands closer than is entirely appropriate. Just to see which photo he's looking at, mind you. "That's my older brother, Cooper. He was teaching me how to ride a bike." Blaine smiles at the happy memory.

"How old were you?" Kurt asks, turning to face Blaine. The proximity of their bodies is undeniable now.

"About eight, I think."

"Oh," Kurt says, looking almost sad for a moment before turning back to the framed pictures. "Oh my god, the blazers."

Blaine lets out a half breath/half laugh at that. "Yeah, that's private school for you. Lots of pretention, horrible wardrobe."

"I'll say," Kurt says. "You kind of pulled it off, though."

"You think?"

"Yeah," Kurt says, turning back to face Blaine. He glances down, smiling a little. "I might have looked you up on YouTube."

"You didn't," Blaine says with a self-deprecating laugh. "Those videos are so embarrassing. I keep telling Wes to take them down."

"You guys were good," Kurt says with a shrug.

They're both silent for a moment until Kurt giggles softly. "Although, you should probably have him take down the one from the Gap."

Blaine groans and drops his head in his hand. He looks up at Kurt and smiles. "Do you think I could plead young and stupid?"

Kurt gives him a playful eye roll and turns back to the shelves. He runs his fingers along the spines of a few books. Blaine can't help but watch the elegant way he holds his hands. It accentuates both the length of his fingers and the strength of them. Kurt is about a third of the way through one shelf when he pauses at a set of four well-worn paperbacks with a slight harlequin pattern and faded gold lettering on their spines. There are three much thicker accompanying hardbacks next to them. They are slightly different in color and design, but just as worn looking as the rest of the set.

"How many times have you read these?" he asks.

"I lost count," Blaine replies. It's true. Despite many of his fellow English majors teasing him relentlessly, he still managed to write five different papers about various themes in the Harry Potter series. "I try to reread the entire series at least once a year, but periodically I'll just pick one up and read it in one sitting…especially Prisoner of Azkaban."

Kurt looks at him questioningly.

"I have a thing for time travel," Blaine says, shrugging. "If you scrutinize my DVD collection you'll find the 'Back to the Future' trilogy tucked in next to 'Doctor Who' and 'Hot Tub Time Machine.' I might even own both 'Bill & Ted' movies. Kind of a weakness of mine."

"I won't tell."

Neither of them speaks right away, the double meaning of Kurt's statement hanging boldly between them. They're both still facing the bookcase. Kurt is tapping random books, tilting his head to the side to read titles. Blaine feels like he might burn a hole in "The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll" if he stares at it much longer, but he can't figure out what to say. The weight of everything — kissing, wanting, waiting — is almost too much. Where would he begin?

And while he's busy searching for the right words, Kurt finds them first.

"I missed you," he says. It's a simple declaration; there's no unnecessary drama in his tone, and he doesn't turn around.

"Kurt…" He can't get out anything else. The single syllable almost chokes him with the weight of it. How can he lie to someone as brave as Kurt is being? And Blaine feels like such a coward. Both for leading Kurt on and for not wanting to take a chance. Blaine reaches out and places a hand on Kurt's right shoulder. He hopes the simple action says what he can't.

"You don't need to say anything," Kurt says. His voice is soft and low. Blaine shivers with the intimacy of it. "I know you feel it too. Even if you won't say it."

"It's not that, Kurt." Blaine pauses and drops his hand from Kurt's shoulder. He looks at his hands and picks at a callous on his thumb to keep them occupied. "No matter what I could think of to say, it would feel like a lie."

Kurt turns to face Blaine. He looks confused and hurt as Blaine looks up to make eye contact.

"I'm not very good at romance," Blaine says. "And even if I were, this situation is all kinds of fucked up."

"But you like me," Kurt says. "You _want_ to be with me."

"I do like you, Kurt," Blaine replies. "But I'm not sure I can do anything about that. I told you that on Tuesday."

"And I told you," Kurt says, running the back of his hand across Blaine's cheek. "I don't care."

"I know you don't," Blaine says, leaning into Kurt's touch before reaching up to remove the hand from his face. "But I do."

"Blaine, I…"

"You're my student, Kurt. That's all you can be to me until you graduate. Anything else is too dangerous for us both."

Blaine can't help himself from watching Kurt's lips. They're still a little red from being out in the cold, and Kurt's full bottom lip is sticking out slightly, just begging to be kissed. Blaine doesn't even realize he's licking his own lips as he stares.

"I know you're trying to do the right thing, Blaine," Kurt says. "But I know that's not what you want." His eyes darken as he notices Blaine staring at his lips. Kurt leans in slowly, giving Blaine time to back away. But nothing, short of physical force pulling him away from Kurt, could stop Blaine from kissing those lips again.

When Blaine doesn't back away, Kurt closes his eyes and eliminates some of the distance between them. He stops just shy of Blaine's mouth, lips parted in anticipation. Blaine can feel Kurt's breath, rapid and warm on his face and he takes in a sharp breath. He feels Kurt's hand grasp his elbow, anchoring him to the spot and preventing him from pulling away.

Blaine closes his eyes trying to block it all out and resist the temptation of closing the remaining distance. But in the absence of his sense of sight, Kurt's scent wafts over him and draws him in. He unintentionally leans into it and feels Kurt's bottom lip brush his top one. And that's it. He feels the last of his willpower leave his body as he frantically grips the back of Kurt's head and pulls him in to a fierce kiss.

His tongue tingles with the sensation of Kurt's on his. The feeling grows more intoxicating with every slip and caress of wet warmth shared between them. Even so, Blaine's mind is screaming at him to stop…pull away…you can't do this. But his body is begging for more, and he can't will it to do anything but kiss Kurt …and kiss…and kiss. A broken moan escapes the back of his throat. The sound sends Kurt surging forward to grip Blaine's sweater in his fists and pull him closer.

Blaine realizes he hasn't made out like this in years — hands everywhere, heat and intensity and pleasure, kissing with abandon, and learning how to pull pleasant sounds from the other person with subtle touches and gentle nips of teeth. The feeling overwhelms him in the best way, all thoughts of "Kurt is a student" dismissed before they can even form.

Needing more contact, Blaine grips Kurt's hair, and pulls to expose his neck. He mouths a line from the hollow of Kurt's neck all the way to his ear, nibbling at the lobe. Kurt's gasp makes Blaine smile against the warm skin of his neck. He wants to memorize every dip, curve and smooth plane of Kurt's body. Study it like a work of art. Write odes to every inch of him and compose songs about the wonder that is Kurt Hummel.

Every thought in Blaine's head is Kurt, Kurt, Kurt until his text alert sounds from his pocket, jolting him out of the moment. He grabs it with the intent of turning it off, but he sees a message from Wes blinking back at him.

Wes (5:02 p.m.)  
 _Lunch tomorrow in Westerville?_

Wes, as usual, is Blaine's reality check. He looks back to Kurt, panting heavily and trying to fix his hair. What is he doing?

"Kurt…I think we should…"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go," he says, smoothing a hand over his shirt and avoiding eye contact.

"I shouldn't have…"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Kurt pleads, holding up a hand. "I can't take it if you try to take it all back again. Not now. I can understand wanting to be discreet, take it slow…but you can't deny what's between us. Not anymore."

Blaine knows it's true. He knows it in his bones. But he can't agree, not if he wants to keep any sense of propriety.

"So I'm going to go," Kurt continues, writing something on a notepad on the coffee table as Blaine gapes at him. "And you're going to call me later when you've realized that I'm right."

Kurt grabs his coat from the hook near the door and picks up his discarded scarf. He strolls over to Blaine, who hasn't moved yet, and kisses him on the cheek. It's the barest brush of lips and it's almost comical after the kisses they'd shared just moments earlier, but it sends Blaine's stomach fluttering wildly. He grips his phone tighter as he watches Kurt wrap his thick scarf around his neck and stride through the front door.

Blaine collapses on the sofa and lets his head fall to the cushion behind his head.

* * *

Wes sits in an unassuming café on the outskirts of Westerville, waiting for Blaine to show up. He taps his foot while he checks his to-do list for the upcoming week on his phone. The long weekend gave him the perfect excuse to come home, knowing full well that Blaine would agree to meet him if he knew his best friend was less than two hours away, instead of the usual 8.

The truth is, Wes is growing increasingly worried about Blaine. Actually, worried doesn't begin to cover it. The idea of Blaine having a romantic relationship with someone so young is troubling enough. But that it's one of his students? That makes his stomach twist with crippling anxiety on Blaine's behalf. All the years of prep school and country club gossip have him cringing at the possibility of whispered comments and sideways glances in those circles if he gets caught. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy.

The door to the café opens, and a tall, blonde woman walks in tugging along two small children. There's so much chaos in the wake of two babbling toddlers, Wes almost misses the familiar head of gelled hair just barely visible behind the trio.

"Hey," Blaine calls out with a wave.

Wes stands to greet his friend with a firm, one-armed hug. He pats him on the back with his free hand, and he can't help but return Blaine's warm smile. There was a reason he became the front man for the Warblers. And it wasn't all thanks to his singing.

"You're looking as dapper as always, Warbler Blaine," he says fondly. "Like you could charm the pants of my grandmother."

Blaine laughs, smoothing down the front of his cardigan. "What about you, Dockers and boat shoes? Heading off on your yacht later?"

"Fair enough," Wes replies, with a faux gesture of surrender. "How have you been?" he asks in a more serious tone.

Blaine takes the seat opposite as Wes sits back down.

"Great," Blaine replies. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, but Wes decides to let that go for the moment. When Blaine picks up his menu, he feigns a level of interest that would look like a stretch for a starving person.

"So, I hear they have really great meatball subs here," Wes says, hoping to cut through some of the uneasiness between them.

"Sounds great," Blaine says, setting his menu back down and grinning awkwardly at Wes again.

Wes knows there's something Blaine's not telling him about the situation with Kurt. Ever since that one drunken phone call, the subject's been basically off-limits. Blaine has always avoided difficult conversations with Wes whenever he doesn't want to hear the truth. He's been avoiding Wes' calls for days. And the evidence is all over his face in that cheesy, over-the-top grin. He's trying too hard to look normal. Wes changes tactics.

"Tell me about Lima. Still the hotbed of activity it ever was?"

"You know it. An underwhelming mall and a slew of bad chain restaurants. The usual."

"And underage hotties," Wes deadpans, not looking up from his menu.

"Wes…"

"Blaine, don't tell me there's nothing going on," he says. "It's written all over your oblivious face. Spill."

Blaine gives an exasperated sigh and rubs his hands on his thighs before crossing his arms in front of himself.

"Wes, it's complicated."

"I realize that," Wes says. "That's why we need to talk about it."

Blaine drops his head the way he always does when emotion overwhelms him. His voice is so low Wes actually has to ask him to repeat himself.

"I'm falling for him," Blaine mumbles.

"You're falling fo — Blaine!"

He's got to be kidding. Wes can't imagine a scenario in which Blaine would think it would be okay to even _consider_ having a relationship with a student. And now he's _falling_ for him?

"I know," Blaine groans. "God…I _know_." Blaine runs his hands through his perfectly styled hair, loosening the gel a little and leaving a clumpy mess behind. "I keep trying to stay away, keep it professional, you know? And every time I'm with him, it's like I'm losing my mind. I don't know what to do. I can't help myself."

"Blaine, you _have_ to help yourself. You can't keep leading this kid on."

"He's not a kid!" Blaine nearly shouts. A lady at the table next to them turns to give Blaine an admonishing look. "Sorry," he says to her and turns back to Wes, his expression dead serious. "I kissed him," he whispers. "Twice."

"Jesus, Blaine." Wes leans back in his chair and tries to let that sink in.

Just then the waitress approaches, momentarily killing the conversation while they order. Blaine puts on his best polite smile and woos their waitress without even trying. Some things never change, Wes thinks. He smiles up at her and orders his lunch. Before she's even four feet away, Blaine picks up the conversation where they left off. His voice is soft, and he sounds pained.

"I'm not leading him on, Wes. At least I'm trying not to. I keep telling him we can't do anything about our attraction. But I keep giving in." He looks down at his hands, resting on the table. "What is wrong with me?"

Wes looks across at his friend, who's turned to look out the window. There are tears welling up in his hazel eyes. It's pretty clear Blaine is fighting this with every ounce of his being and losing. Wes can't help but notice how small and young Blaine looks in that moment. Almost like a teenager himself.

"Wow, you haven't been this upset since that Gap manager," he teases, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Blaine just inhales deeply and closes his eyes.

"Wes, I just need someone to talk to. Can we just talk about this without you judging me or making jokes?"

Wes sighs heavily and nods. "Sure," he says, reaching across the table and patting Blaine's hand. "Sorry… I'm listening."

By the time Blaine is done unloading, Wes knows the entire situation with Kurt is more complicated than a simple attraction. He's still certain that Blaine needs to completely step away, and he told him as much, but he now understands why it's proving difficult for his exceedingly noble best friend to do the right thing. He's in love. He hasn't said it, but Wes knows it's true.

Wes can only hope that Kurt graduates before Blaine's resolve disappears completely.

* * *

"I can't believe Mr. Anderson gave Kurt _another_ solo," Rachel says, sinking down onto the piano bench next to Finn. "I can sing anything he can and with a much bigger emotional punch."

"Yeah, but Kurt really killed it at sectionals," Finn says. "I think it's kinda cool and stuff the way Mr. A gives everyone a chance."

"You're supposed to be on _my_ side, Finn Hudson. I'm your girlfriend!"

"And Kurt's my brother."

"Step-brother," Rachel corrects.

"Yeah, but still."

"How am I going to become a Broadway star if I can't practice my craft, Finn? I need to perform like most people need air. There's no way I'm going to be prepared for NYADA in the fall if I don't get another major solo this year."

Sue backs away from the choir room door smiling deviously to herself. She misses the rest of the conversation because she's already developing a plan.

"Well, someone just got her Christmas present a little early this year," she says under her breath.

She watches as Finn lumbers down the hallway, leaving Rachel alone in the choir room. She's singing some god awful Broadway number, and Sue really wants it to stop.

"Easy there, Barbra. You'll break the sound barrier wailing like that," she says as she enters the room.

Rachel looks up startled.

"What do you want?" she says.

"Well, I couldn't help but overhear you talking to Gigantor about not getting your fair shake at solos, and I thought maybe I could help."

"Why would you want to help me?" Rachel asks in a small voice.

"Because, despite your obvious lack of fashion sense and your inability to pick a decent song to save your pathetic excuse for a life, I like you. I see a little of a young Sue Sylvester in you; a certain flair for the dramatic and a drive to get what you want." She smiles at Rachel as sweetly as she can. "That inspires me."

Rachel's eyes widen as Sue continues. This is going to take some finesse.

"I'm sure you know Porcelain is getting private vocal lessons from Professor Triangle Eyebrows," Sue says.

Rachel nods.

"So, go to the mattresses," Sue says. "Play dirty…. Spy on them. Get an edge any way you can."

"I don't know if I can do that," Rachel says. "Kurt's my friend."

"Oh for crying out loud, Berry! Do you want a solo or not?"

Rachel looks unsure for a second and, much to Sue's delight, positively terrified. She slowly nods.

"That's what I thought," she says smugly. "Tell you what. You start snooping around during their practice sessions and report back to me. I'll help you figure out how to use that information to get what you want."

"Ms. Sylvester, I'm not sure if that's…"

"Go big or go home, Holly Hobby!"

"I…But…" Rachel stutters.

"I think we're done here."

Sue storms down the hallway triumphantly. Finding Becky in her office as per usual, she begins devising a plan.

"Becky, bring me Gloria Estefan's illegitimate love child, stat."

Becky looks at her confused.

"Santana…I need Santana."


	9. Chapter 9

****"Hey there, Hobbit."

Santana approaches Rachel at her locker, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"What do you want?" Rachel asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder, probably trying to look tougher than she is. It's comical.

"Jesus, Berry…can't I just say hello without you thinking I want something?"

Rachel lifts an eyebrow and purses her lips, gripping her notebook tighter to her chest.

"Okay," Santana says. "So I'm usually entirely self-serving and a heinous bitch. But I'm genuinely concerned about you, god help me. You looked pretty upset when Anderson gave lady face another solo yesterday."

Rachel's face softens, and Santana has to fight back a smile. Her prey is taking the bait.

"It's just not fair," Rachel whines, leaning back against the row of lockers.

"So let's make it fair," Santana says with a shrug. _God, Berry is so disgusting with her big innocent doe eyes._

"What are you suggesting?" Rachel asks. She still looks wary, but at least she's no longer on the defensive.

"A partnership," she says. "I want a chance at a solo too, and as long as Blanderson keeps giving them all to Hummel, we're screwed."

Santana didn't really care so much about Coach Sylvester's agenda, whatever it may be, but she really did want to increase her chances at solos. And Anderson did seem to have one hell of an ear boner for Kurt's annoying voice, not that Berry's was much better. But one less solo for Hummel was a shot at another one for her. And that's what matters.

"We could spy on Kurt's private lessons," Rachel suggests, looking nervous. "Mr. Anderson's been giving him vocal instruction twice a week before school since September."

Santana grins broadly, her gloss-coated lips revealing a perfect row of bright white teeth. It's on.

"Rachel Berry, that's completely devious, and I love it," she says. "There might be hope for you yet."

She threads an arm through Rachel's and tugs her down the hallway toward the choir room.

* * *

Blaine smiles at Rachel and Santana as they enter the room, arms linked. His smile grows wider when he sees Kurt and Mercedes walking in behind them. Kurt returns the smile with an exuberant, "Hey Mr. Anderson." Mercedes gives him a confused look and says, "Who are you and what have you done with Kurt Hummel?"

Kurt playfully slaps Mercedes' arm and laughs. He _is_ acting unusually cheerful today.

"You look happy, Kurt" Blaine says.

Kurt turns to face him, smile growing even wider. "I am," he says.

Blaine really wants to kiss him when he smiles like that. He doesn't act on it, of course. But he indulges in the thought anyway.

"He's been like this for days," Mercedes says. "I'm thinking of having him committed."

"Why is it so hard for everyone to just accept my good mood?" Kurt asks. He looks annoyed, but he's still smiling.

"Oh, I accept it," Mercedes says. "I'm just not sure I trust it. The last time you looked that happy you tried to give me a makeover."

"You would have looked great in that leather mini skirt and you know it," Kurt admonishes. He pivots on the spot, taking his bag off his shoulder and sitting down. It happens in one fluid movement and reminds Blaine of practiced choreography.

"Yeah, yeah," Mercedes says with a dismissive wave. "Still thinking of having you committed."

"Lucky for you, I can pull off buckles and straps," Kurt teases.

Blaine laughs brightly at that. "You're probably the only person I know who could make a straightjacket look fashionable," he says, forcing his mind toward the most PG thought he can muster.

Kurt glances over at his teacher and beams. His posture grows visibly taller at the compliment, and there's a moment of poignant silence. Blaine wonders if Kurt isn't having similar trouble keeping his thoughts out of the gutter. When Blaine sees Mercedes looking back and forth between them with her mouth open, he clears his throat loudly and tries to get the attention of the group.

"Okay, guys, it's almost winter break and we need to firm up our set list for regionals," he says, shifting his eyes to Mercedes. She's watching Kurt attentively, and Kurt, for his part, is gazing fondly at Blaine, a coy smile making him look irresistible. He forces himself to make eye contact with some of the other students. "Does anyone have a piece they'd like us to consider?"

Rachel's hand shoots up like a rocket. "Mr. Anderson, I'd like to offer up my services as soloist for what I think will be the perfect New Directions number." She pauses and smiles. Blaine assumes she's going for maximum dramatic impact, but in reality, she just looks constipated.

"Defying Gravity," she says finally, grinning madly and bouncing in her chair like a small child.

"Yawn," Santana says from the back of the room. "We'll put the judges to sleep with that crap."

"It's not _crap_ ," Rachel says harshly, whipping around to glare at Santana. "Wicked is a _very_ popular, not to mention award-winning, Broadway musical."

"Exactly. It's totally predictable. We'll get laughed off the stage."

"Santana's right," Quinn offers. "We need something more original…something different."

Rachel turns back to the front of the room, bottom lip stuck out in a pout and crosses her arms. Finn pats her knee and offers her an apologetic smile.

"Any other suggestions?" Blaine asks, trying to mitigate some of the tension before it gets out of hand.

The group manages to come up with a short list for regionals. Although, Rachel pouts for the remainder of rehearsal. When Blaine dismisses them, he considers asking her to stay behind, but sees that Santana is rushing to catch up to her, and figures he'll let Santana apologize. That will probably go a lot further than Blaine trying to comfort her. He turns back to the room, only to be met with Kurt's stunning blue eyes. Everyone else is gone.

"Mr. Anderson," he says with more formality than necessary. "I didn't want to say anything in front of Rachel, but I have a song I want to work on during my vocal lesson tomorrow. I'd like to audition it for regionals."

"I already gave you a solo, Kurt," Blaine says, trying to sound serious and focusing on straightening chairs. "Do you think it's fair to the others to try for another one?"

He glances over to Kurt and sees his eyes sparkling with delight. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to fight back an undignified giggle. But he's feeling lightheaded and giddy. Apparently, Kurt's eyes just have that effect on him.

"You always say the solos will go to the most _deserving_ ," Kurt says, smirking. "If I'm the best, I don't see why I couldn't' have more than one solo."

"I think your teacher might be biased, Kurt." The words are out before he can realize he's flirting again.

Kurt raises an eyebrow in challenge. It occurs to Blaine that it should be criminal to look that good while scheming, especially by someone who is only 18.

"I'm kind of counting on it," Kurt says, pursing his lips playfully and raising his eyebrow even higher. His eyes are sparkling with blatant flirtation.

Blaine's jaw drops, and his eyes go wide. Kurt just stands there smirking at him for a moment. And then he's gone, leaving Blaine gaping after him.

He can't believe how bold Kurt is being. It reminds him of being alone with Kurt in his apartment when he'd challenged him and turned him on and was just … perfect. And then he'd just assumed Blaine would call him and had left his phone number – along with an xoxo – on a scrap of paper on his coffee table. He had paced around it and stared at it all night. It was still there in the morning, mocking him.

Blaine had lasted just under 24 hours before he called Kurt.

* * *

"Hey," he says when Kurt answers. "It's Mr. Anderson. Blaine…it's Blaine."

"Blaine," Kurt repeats. "What are you…? How are you doing?"

Blaine clears his throat. "Fine."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

"Blaine, did you call me for a particular reason?"

"Kurt, I just…"

"Yes?"

"I don't know what I'm doing," Blaine blurts out.

"Neither do I," Kurt confesses.

"Yeah, but you're 18. I'm 22."

"Like that's supposed to give you some sort of magic insight," Kurt says. "I'm just as confused as you are. Maybe more so."

Blaine breathes heavily into the phone. "Well, that makes me feel better."

Kurt laughs. It's one of the best sounds. "We could take it slow," he says.

"Kurt."

"Blaine. I'm serious," Kurt says. "I'm not saying let's jump in with both feet, start going out on dates and making out in the hallways or anything."

"I would hope not," Blaine laughs. "I'd be unemployed by the end of the week."

"Exactly. What I'm proposing is more of a carefully constructed friendship."

"You're _proposing_? It's all so sudden," Blaine teases. His mood is lightened considerably and he's actually considering Kurt's idea.

"Stop making fun. I'm trying to figure this out." Blaine imagines the most adorable pout on Kurt's face.

"Sorry…sorry,' Blaine says. "Continue. Elaborate on this 'carefully constructed' friendship we're supposed to be having." He smiles, leaning on his kitchen counter and rests his chin on his hand.

"I think we could start spending more time together, really get to know each other…just as friends," Kurt says. "See if we really have anything in common beyond music and fashion. And if, when I graduate in May, we're still interested, then we can then _safely_ pursue a romantic relationship."

"You practiced that, didn't you?"

"Possibly," he says quietly.

Blaine can hear the smirk in his voice over the line.

"You're adorable," he says before his mind can stop him. They're both silent for a few moments. Blaine can't help but notice that it happens every time they cross that invisible line. It feels like they're letting the tension build until it snaps. And Blaine wonders if Kurt enjoys the build up in the same confusing way he does.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Kurt says. "The way you kissed me. It was …"

"Perfect?" Blaine wagers.

"Perfect." Kurt sighs, and Blaine wishes he could see his face. "God, it's going to be torture not being able to do that again until May."

Blaine thinks truer words were never spoken. The idea of being with Kurt even more and not being able to touch him or kiss him or …. No, he can't go there. They have to be careful, play it safe, wait it out.

"We have to be careful, though," Blaine says. "It's this or nothing."

"I'm just glad you'd rather be my friend than nothing at all." Kurt sounds sad, like he can't believe anyone would want to be his friend.

"Kurt, I can't imagine not having you in my life. I hope you know how special you are."

"I'm starting to figure it out," Kurt says.

* * *

Snapping out of the memory, Blaine finishes straightening the chairs and heads to his office, smiling to himself. He sends Kurt a text.

From Blaine (4:33 p.m.)  
 _Coffee later?_

From Kurt (4:34 p.m.)  
 _Sure. 5-ish? Lima Bean?_

From Blaine (4:35 p.m.)  
 _Looking forward to it. :)_

* * *

Mercedes is waiting just outside the choir room for Kurt. He doesn't see her right away, so she pinches his elbow to get his attention.

"Ow!" he says. "What was that for?"

"You were totally flirting with Mr. A just now. There is definitely something going on there. I think you owe me an explanation." She crosses her arms and cocks a hip out while waiting for his response.

Kurt looks like he's battling internally about something. Mercedes nudges him carefully.

"You can trust me, Kurt. You know that right?"

"It's not that," he says. "I'm just not sure what you want me to say."

"Well, I know you have the hots for Mr. Anderson. But outright flirting with him? Whoa boy."

"I can't help it," Kurt says, his shoulders sagging. "He's just so…" He trails off, looking wistfully behind him toward the choir room.

"Kurt," she says with a playful smile. "You've got such a crush on him!"

"Yeah," Kurt admits in a rush of breath. He's not making eye contact, though.

Mercedes searches his face for a moment. _Could it be?_

"Kurt," she begins, lowering her voice to a whisper and looking left and right. "Is something going on with you and Mr. Anderson?"

Kurt reels back and his eyes go wide.

"No, Mercedes…god! Why would you say something like that?"

"Well, you have been walking around like you found designer jeans for a dollar at the flea market. What am I supposed to think?"

Kurt _has_ been acting really weird. Something is definitely up, and if it doesn't have anything to do with their teacher, she is at a loss to figure it out.

"Mercedes," Kurt says, gripping her by the arm and looking her directly in the eye. "Why would our unfairly attractive 20-something teacher — a grown man — want anything to do with me?"

"You don't give yourself enough credit. Have you seen yourself lately?" She waves a hand at him. Mercedes might think of Kurt like a brother, but it hasn't escaped her attention that he's grown a few inches taller and gotten leaner and less doughy in the last two years. She swears his shoulders have broadened nearly daily for the last six months. Every time she turns around his jackets and sweaters look more form fitting than the last time he wore them. "Kurt Hummel is growing up."

Kurt blushes and drops his head at her compliment. She smiles fondly at her dear friend. He really does underestimate himself. She kinds of wishes maybe Mr. A were interested in Kurt. The flattery would do Kurt's self-esteem some good.

Kurt smiles as he reads a text on his phone. He taps out a quick reply and then looks up at Mercedes.

"Well, as flattering as that is, you obviously see something that Mr. Anderson doesn't. He's just my teacher. Nothing more."

Mercedes nods at Kurt, but she isn't convinced. In fact, she keeps a careful eye on Kurt and Mr. Anderson for the next few weeks, pursuing her hunch. What she sees makes her even more suspicious. The first week she sees shy glances and private smiles when they think no one is looking. More than once she swears she sees Kurt's car following Mr. Anderson's out of the McKinley parking lot. Kurt keeps insisting it's just the vocal lessons, AP English, and glee, nothing more.

But as far as Mercedes is concerned, all of these little things have really begun to add up. And now more than ever she wants concrete proof before she confronts Kurt again. So she shows up early to school on a Thursday morning about a week before regionals to eavesdrop on Kurt's lesson, hoping to catch them off guard. Just as she rounds the corner to the choir room, she sees Rachel and Santana peering in through the small window in the door.

"What are you two doing?" she asks. Both girls jump at the sound of Mercedes' voice and twist around to face her. Rachel's face is the picture of shock, but Santana's cool demeanor is perfectly in place.

"Who us?" Santana asks, feigning innocence. "We were just walking by and wanted to hear how Kurt's solo is progressing."

"Uh huh," Mercedes says.

"It's true," Rachel chimes in. "We're just here to offer our unfailing moral support to Kurt."

"And I'm the Easter Bunny," Mercedes says, rolling her eyes at them. "Since when are either of you two team players?"

"Oh lay off it, Aretha. Don't tell me you didn't come here to get your spy on too."

Mercedes can't deny it. Although her motives may have been different, she's still there to spy on her friend. But they don't need to know that.

She shakes her head as Santana gloats. "Let's just be quiet," she says. "I don't want Kurt to know we're here."

* * *

Kurt breathes deeply and tries to focus on the melody of the song they're working on, but Blaine's arm keeps brushing his, the thick wool of his cardigan absolutely perfect for cuddling in the brisk November cold that has gripped Lima. Kurt can smell Blaine's cologne, and he wants to nuzzle into the man's neck and inhale deeply to memorize the scent.

"Do you want to try the second verse again?" Blaine asks. He doesn't look up from the page of music he's marking with a pencil. Kurt takes the opportunity to admire Blaine's profile. His eyes lock on the prominent rise and fall of his Adam's apple.

 _I'd like to try kissing you again,_ he thinks _. Lick you from head to toe._

What he says is, "Sure."

Meanwhile Kurt's mind is racing with thoughts he absolutely shouldn't be having about his teacher. It takes everything he has to focus on the lyrics to the song and not think about the snug pull of cotton across Blaine's lap and what lies hidden underneath. One thing's for sure, Blaine must wear snug-fitting underwear because he never shows signs of bunched fabric underneath his trousers. Boxer briefs maybe? Perhaps he even goes without sometimes because Kurt's never seen a single line or crease. And he's _definitely_ been looking.

Kurt pulls his thoughts together just in time for his cue. Blaine smiles as Kurt's voice rings out clear and bright. Kurt allows himself to get lost in the song for a few moments.

"I think you're ready," Blaine says when Kurt finishes singing. "How do you feel about it?" He turns to face Kurt, and his smile is so full of pride, it makes Kurt's heart feel like it's going to swell clear out of his chest.

Kurt smiles and just lets himself bask in the praise and attention for a second. "Feels good," he says. "Feels really good."

Blaine's tea-colored eyes are wide pools of emotion staring back at him. He hears Blaine take in a shuddering breath, and his own heartbeat picks up speed as they lock eyes. It would be so easy to close the distance between them and fit their lips together, and yet there might as well be a deep chasm separating them for the lack of freedom they have to act out their desires. It's somehow more manageable now that they've acknowledged their attraction and promised to fight against it for the time being. Manageable…doesn't make it any easier, though.

"Good…good," Blaine says, unblinking.

By the time the bell rings a few minutes later, neither of them has spoken again. Still, Kurt can't help but feel like they've had a deeply intimate conversation in those moments of silence. He wishes he could pull Blaine into a tight embrace. He settles for a small wave.

* * *

By the time regionals rolls around the next week, Blaine is feeling good about his ability to keep his attraction at bay. He'd even bragged to Wes about their arrangement. His friend had sounded optimistic but concerned.

In retrospect, Blaine probably got too cocky about his ability to control the entire situation.

The morning of regionals dawns gloomy and overcast, the temperature on the verge of freezing. The biting cold threatens to turn a light drizzle into to a slushy, biting mix of sleet and ice.

Blaine arrives at McKinley ahead of his students, arms laden with two dozen bagels and a box of hot chocolate packets. He stumbles through the double doors and makes his way to the teachers' lounge for some hot water, plates, and napkins.

By the time New Directions arrives, he has an impressive display for them and a highly inspiring pep talk prepared and it all goes off without a hitch. They board the bus on time and for once, no one is arguing.

Thanks to Blaine's thoughtfulness, the mood on the bus headed to the competition is cheerful and light. Puck is playing guitar while several of the girls sing along. Blaine catches sight of Rachel and Santana laughing at Brittany and Mike's attempts at dancing in their seats. He's glad that their duet was strong enough to be part of their competition set. He was starting to worry that he had a mutiny brewing.

Smiling to himself, Blaine turns to watch the scenery fly by out the window. The sky is still grey and gloomy, but Blaine's mood is light. Life is good.

He feels a presence to his left and knows without looking that it's Kurt.

"Hi," he says.

"Hey," Blaine replies. "Ready for your solo?"

"Mmmhmm," Kurt says quietly. He lowers his voice even more. "I wish we could do something to help my nerves."

"Kurt," Blaine says, shifting his eyes to make sure no one is close enough to hear them. "You can't just say things like that. Especially not in public."

"I know," Kurt says. He looks chastised, but unapologetic. "But you can't tell me you haven't been thinking the same thing."

Blaine narrows his eyes and purses his lips. He has been thinking about it. Too much, in fact. But there's nothing they can do about it, so he's just been taking care of it on his own.

"I have," Blaine admits before leaning in to whisper into Kurt's ear. "But I'm pretty sure that's why they invented masturbation."

Kurt's eyes go wide, and he blushes deeply even for him. Blaine sees Kurt's Adam's apple rise and fall with a thick swallow, and god if that doesn't make him want to bite at it.

It isn't the first time he's fantasized about Kurt's deliciously long neck. He'd love to pepper it with kisses and nibble his way from shoulder to ear lobe. The sounds Kurt would make…he can almost hear it.

Blaine is glad the seats of the bus are high and block them from view because he's certain if anyone saw his face right now, they'd read every dirty thought and sexual fantasy running rampant in his brain.

He can hear Kurt's rapid breath and can feel the heat radiating off both of them in waves. His desire is burning hot like fire in his belly as his cock betrays him, swelling rapidly and causing him to shift his weight to conceal it from Kurt's view.

A sudden shout of "Get a room, Berry!" from the back of the bus brings them both crashing back into the reality of being on a school bus headed to a show choir competition.

"I should get back to my seat," Kurt says, eyes downcast.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," Blaine says.

He watches Kurt head to the back of the bus and take his seat by Mercedes.

It only takes a few moments to come back down from his visible arousal, but his body feels taught, his skin pulled too tightly over his bones, and his nerves thrum with desire. It's unsettling, but not entirely unpleasant.

Blaine turns back to the window and keeps his gaze focused on the gray sky outside for the rest of the trip to Carmel. He hopes Kurt is better at maintaining focus than he is at the moment. He's got a solo to sing.

* * *

Sebastian Smythe remembers all too well what it felt like to lose to New Directions at regionals last year. He's determined not to have a repeat of that particular situation. That's how he finds himself backstage at Carmel High hours before The Warblers are set to perform. He's looking for ways to cause trouble and increase their chances of winning. Not that The Warblers need it with him as lead singer. But it just never hurts to have a little extra incentive.

He easily spots New Directions when they arrive. The stench of public school and talentless ambition rolls off them in waves. A screechy, piercing voice rings out above the rest.

"We should get to the green room as quickly as possible so we can all begin warming up. I need tea with lemon and honey and we should probably do a run through of all three numbers without the choreography."

"Thank you, Rachel," a dark-haired man in a cardigan says. He's wearing different clothing from the rest of them, probably their teacher. He's also strikingly handsome and looks really young; he can't be more than a year or two out of college. Sebastian immediately imagines grinding up against his compact, muscular frame on the dance floor. That perfectly rounded ass bouncing with every beat.

"I'll take it from here," Perfect Ass says. "I'd like us to run through some vocal exercises and then mark the choreography at least once. We're allowed to use the stage from 10:30 to 11, that way we can get the spacing just right. And I'd like all of our featured soloists to rest their voices after warm up. No belting, minimal talking, and Santana? No yelling, please."

A dark-haired girl, probably Santana, rolls her eyes at Perfect Ass and says, "Whatever you say, Mr. A. But I can't be held responsible if Frankenteen says something stupid and I have to go all Lima Heights on his ass."

"Just try to keep it to a dull roar," Perfect Ass says.

"Mr. Anderson," a high-pitched but decidedly masculine voice calls out as the rest of the group heads for the green room. "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure, Kurt," he says. "What's up?"

"Can we go some place private?" he asks, looking around them to make sure no one is within earshot. Sebastian is standing in the shadows, mostly hidden behind a thick curtain, so the boy doesn't see him, but he ducks a little further back behind it just to be safe. "It's about my solo," Kurt finishes.

The two disappear behind a tower of boxes and crates just off the stage and in the opposite direction of the hustle and bustle of the setup for competition. Sebastian waits a few moments until he's sure he won't be seen and then follows.

"…been thinking about you all day," a deep voice says. Must be Perfect Ass.

"Me too," the other voice says, breathing heavily. "Blaine, I don't know if I can wait until May."

"Kurt, you're killing me," Blaine says.

When Sebastian finally finds a spot where he can both see and hear the scene unfolding before him, he's treated to the most wonderful early Christmas present.

Teacher and student are locked in a passionate embrace and from the look of it, it's definitely not the first time this has happened. Kurt's hands are fisted in Blaine's sweater and the teacher's hands are resting on Kurt's waist. Their heads are tipped forward, eyes closed, foreheads touching.

"We can't do this," Blaine says, opening his eyes and trying to pull back from his student, but looking like it pains him to do so.

"Please," Kurt says. Sebastian can see his eyes shining even in the dim backstage light. "Just one kiss for good luck?"

"Kurt, we talked about this. Not until you graduate."

"Please. It's just one kiss." He leans forward into the embrace and nudges Blaine's nose with his own, wrapping his long arms around Blaine's neck. Blaine's eyes flutter shut and he licks his lips. "Promise," Kurt says.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to keep that promise," Blaine says, surging forward to capture Kurt's lips.

Sebastian refuses to tear himself away. The sight before him is erotic and intimate and most importantly, the perfect way for him to get the upper hand for the competition. He watches them kiss for a few moments, frantic tongues and gripping hands. _These two are in so much fucking trouble_ , he thinks.

When they pull away, Blaine mumbles something into Kurt's ear, and the younger man rubs a thumb gently across Blaine's cheek and nods. He walks off in the direction of the green room, leaving the teacher behind. Blaine closes his eyes and exhales loudly, his shoulders sagging. He runs a hand across his mouth and then smoothes his clothes to make sure he's not too disheveled. When he seems satisfied with his appearance, he follows in the direction Kurt had just gone. Sebastian watches until that perfect ass is completely out of sight and then steps out of the shadows.

"Merry fucking Christmas, Smythe," he says out loud.

Sebastian smiles deviously to himself and rushes off to find the tiny screeching girl or maybe even the girl called Santana. He's going to make sure they know exactly what he just saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews, comments, concerns, questions, kicky feet, flails, concrit? I'll take it all. Feedback keeps my muse fat and happy.


	10. Chapter 10

****After lamenting the tragic lack of recycling bins at Carmel, Rachel drains the last of her tea and throws the paper cup in the trash. She consoles herself with the notion that at least the cup's not Styrofoam.

She's just about to go looking for Mr. Anderson so they can start their warm up when she sees Kurt at the end of the hallway walking toward her.

"Kurt, there you are," she says. "We've been looking all over for you. Have you seen Mr. Anderson? It's just about time for us to do our run-through, and you haven't warmed up yet."

"Um…I…well, he…and…" Kurt stammers.

"I'm right here, Rachel," a voice calls out from behind Kurt. "I was talking to the sound guy about our setup." He claps a hand on Kurt's shoulder, causing him to flinch. Mr. Anderson either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore Kurt's discomfort.

"Ready to wow the judges?" he asks, smiling and glancing from Kurt to Rachel and then back to Kurt.

"Yeah," Kurt says, looking like he might be sick.

"Stage fright?" Rachel asks with a smug look. "It's perfectly understandable. I, myself, haven't had stage fright since an ill-fated ballet recital when I was four, but I remember the fear of failure vividly. I'm fully prepared to take over your solo if you think you might choke."

"Thank you, Rachel, but I don't think that will be necessary," Mr. Anderson says. "Kurt is beyond prepared. Right, Kurt?"

Kurt just presses his lips together in the half-smile he gives when he's uncomfortable but trying to not let it show. Mr. Anderson is still smiling, and he again misses Kurt's distress. Rachel frowns and looks back to Kurt.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Rachel asks.

Kurt nods. "I'm just going to go start my warm up," he says. Without another word, he practically runs toward the room where the rest of New Directions is waiting.

Mr. Anderson turns to follow. "You coming, Rachel?"

"Just a minute," she says. "I wanted to go touch up my makeup, and the fluorescent lighting in the classroom they're trying to pass off as a green room is horrible for my skin tone."

"Okay," he says. "Just don't take too long. We need to do a run-through."

"I'll hurry," she says, skipping off to find the bathroom.

Rachel reassures herself that one day she'll have her own dressing room with her name written on a large, gold star on the door, and she'll never have to deal with sub-par lighting again. In the meantime, though, she's just hoping for a bathroom mirror with a ledge on it, and if she's really lucky, some natural light. Finally, at the end of the hallway, she sees the ladies room. She picks up her pace, trying to keep her word to Mr. Anderson. She doesn't want to be late for a dress rehearsal.

But just as Rachel is about to pull open the door, she hears music coming from a nearby classroom. The sound is different than the songs New Directions usually performs. There's a distinct sound that only a well-practiced a cappella group can produce. She walks closer to the open door, trying her best to stay out of sight. It's not like she's spying if the door is open, she reasons.

When she looks inside the room, she sees a dozen or so boys in matching navy blazers and gray pants dancing in perfect sync to a carefully arranged rendition of "Uptown Girl." The two boys carrying the lead vocals are dancing around each other in playful circles. It's almost flirtatious, but not really sexual. It's fun. The dance steps look easy enough, but the effect of all those boys in matching uniforms and the spot-on harmonies is really quite arresting. Rachel hopes the judges are looking for something more passionate rather than this type of polished precision.

When the darker-haired of the two leads finishes the song, holding out an exquisite high note, he catches sight of Rachel and smiles. In a moment of panic, she ducks behind the doorframe to hide herself from view. Her heart is racing as she frantically looks for an escape route. Suddenly she remembers the ladies bathroom across the hall. Rachel rushes toward the door and ducks inside just as the two lead singers exit the room.

"Are you sure?" the first voice says.

"She was right here," the other voice says. "I think she's in that group from Lima that beat us last year."

"I have a feeling there won't be a repeat," the first voice says. "You'll never guess what I saw a few minutes ago." His tone is ripe with the prospect of gossip of only the juiciest kind.

Their voices sound a little farther away now, so Rachel takes a chance and cracks open the door just enough to peer out. She sees the two boys at the end of the hallway, the lighter-haired of the two leaning on a row of lockers.

"Trent making out with a girl?" the second voice says with a laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick," he says.

"Oh come on, Sebastian," the one called Nick says. "It's a _little_ funny."

"I wasn't going for funny," Sebastian says, the picture of nonchalance. He's obviously pausing for maximum dramatic impact. Rachel does it all the time; she would know that technique anywhere.

"Are you going to tell me or not?" Nick asks impatiently.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. "Fine. But only because it's too juicy not to share." He's lowered his voice, so Rachel has to strain to make it out. She opens the door a little wider.

The darker-haired boy leans in closer, obviously trying to keep his facial expression casual, but his body language betrays his intrigue. Rachel feels herself pulled in by the prospect of gossip about her own glee club, and she leans out of the doorway, squinting to make out the movement of their lips.

"Ok, so you know how I got here early to check out the competition?"

Nick nods.

"Well, I saw that group from Lima come in. And I was just going to try to follow them around a little bit….see if they're any real competition, find a weakness. Whatever. But they really didn't seem to be all that intimidating. Then I happened to notice their new director … early twenties, has the sweetest ass … fucking gorgeous — anyway, I saw him disappear with one of the boys in the group. Some blushing, bashful twink with a bad case of the gay face."

Rachel can't believe she's hearing this. Another openly gay guy bashing Kurt. _Her_ Kurt. She's so furious she almost forgets she's trying to stay out of sight. She claps a hand over her mouth at the last second to keep from shouting at them and grips the door handle tighter to keep herself from moving.

"God, you're mean," Nick says.

"Whatever. Do you want to hear this story or not?"

"Fine…Just tell me."

"So, they disappear back stage, and I come around a corner and they're full-on making out. Like right there in the auditorium."

"Wait…a teacher?"

Sebastian nods, a devilish grin on his face.

"And a student?"

Sebastian nods again, his smile growing wider.

"Whoa," Nick says, leaning back.

"And I don't think it was the first time either." Sebastian says. "They sounded pretty cozy."

"Holy crap."

Rachel can't believe what she's hearing. Kurt…making out with Mr. Anderson? And it's not the first time. She's suddenly aware of her heart thudding heavily in her chest and her palms beginning to sweat. Rachel can't decide if she feels more betrayed by her friend for not telling her about having a relationship with their teacher, or with her teacher for obviously playing favorites and giving Kurt undeserved solos. She's all but forgotten the two boys at the other end of the hall so she nearly jumps out of her skin when one of them addresses her.

"I see you," the boy named Sebastian calls out without looking her way. "Why don't you stop eavesdropping and come say hello."

He turns and smirks at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Rachel lets go of the door so quickly it nearly smacks her in the face. She panics at the realization she's been caught. Her hands flutter up nervously to smooth her bangs. She fidgets a bit, grasping her cheeks in both hands, and playing with the straps on her dress.

_You can do this. This is no time to be a scaredy cat._

She grabs the door handle, intending to exit the bathroom, but at the last second, she pulls her hand away. Rachel debates staying in the bathroom until the boys leave, but she doesn't even know how long she's been gone now, and she refuses to miss the competition. She can't stay in this stupid bathroom forever. So she wipes her hands down the front of her skirt and straightens her posture, drawing up to her full height. Head held high, she exits the bathroom.

"Aw, look…we have a fan," Sebastian drawls as the other boy laughs. "Enjoying the show, Thumbelina?"

Rachel is so caught up in thoughts about Sebastian's story, however, that the insult barely registers. She needs to know the truth.

"Did you really see Kurt and Mr. Anderson making out?" she asks, her brown eyes wide and welling up with tears, even as she tries to keep her posture tall and her tone even.

"Why don't you ask them yourself?" he says, pushing off the lockers and towering over her. "And tell that sweet teacher of yours if he's ever looking for someone more… _experienced_ …I'm willing _and_ able."

He bumps Rachel's shoulder as he walks past, the other boy trailing behind with a slack-jawed expression. Rachel's feet feel glued to the ground.

_Kurt. And Mr. Anderson. Making out._

"I need to find Finn," she says to herself, and she races back to the green room.

* * *

Kurt is doing his best to focus on his warm up, but his nerves are raw, and he can't stop thinking about the feel of Blaine's hands on his neck, in his hair, down his back…

"Kurt, you okay?" Mercedes asks, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah," he says. "I think I'm just nervous about my solo." It's not the whole truth, but it's believable enough, and Mercedes' sympathetic smile tells him she buys it.

"You'll be great, boo. Don't sweat it." She pats Kurt on the back and rubs her hand in a small, comforting circle.

He wishes he could tell Mercedes, or even Tina, about Blaine. He's bursting at the seams with tension and a strange lightness all at once. But he knows it's best if he and Blaine keep their arrangement to themselves, especially now that they're having such difficulty sticking to it.

"Thanks," he says, pulling her into a quick hug. When he draws back, he gives Mercedes a genuine smile. "You're a good friend."

Mercedes narrows her eyes at him and looks like she's about to say something, when the sound of Rachel's voice rings out over the noise in the room.

"Finn!" she shouts.

Kurt looks up as Rachel walks into the room and makes a beeline for Finn. When she reaches him, she stands on her tiptoes and tugs on his sleeve to pull him down to her height. Rachel leans in to whisper in his ear, and Finn's eyes go wide as his jaw drops. He says something and Rachel nods emphatically, her eyes equally wide. Kurt tilts his head to the side as he watches them, wondering what could possibly be going on. The pair turn to look at Kurt, shocked expressions still on their faces. Rachel releases Finn's sleeve and walks toward Kurt.

"I need to talk to you," Rachel says. "In private."

"What? Now?" Kurt asks. "We really should get started on our run-through."

"This will just take a minute, Kurt. It's important."

Kurt knows better than to try to deter Rachel when she has that determined gleam in her eyes. He bites his lip and then sighs.

"Okay, Rachel," he says. "Just make it quick."

The sentence is barely out of Kurt's mouth before Rachel is tugging on his arm and dragging him into the hallway. They pass three empty classrooms and an office before she tugs open the door to a closet, three-quarters full of cleaning supplies and beat up gym equipment.

"Rachel, is there some reason we have to do this in a storage closet?" he asks, looking around and crinkling his nose. "It smells like a foot in here. This better be important."

"Give me some credit, Kurt. I understand the importance of well-timed melodrama in our friendship. Not to mention, I didn't want anyone else overhearing this before I got the story from you. Well, besides Finn. I told him first, and he said I should talk to you before I jumped to con—"

"Jesus, Rachel, will you just get to the point," Kurt interrupts. He loves Rachel to death, but sometimes her over-the-top way of doing, well, everything can be really draining.

"Fine," she says, pursing her lips. "Is there something going on between you and Mr. Anderson."

Kurt is certain his heart stops for a second, if that were physically possible. He coughs out a single huffed laugh.

"What?! Are you crazy?" he says. "Well I _know_ you're crazy, but are you extra insane today?" He tries to give Rachel his best "are you kidding me?" look, raised eyebrow and all. He just hopes it covers up the panic in his eyes.

"Kurt, I'm serious. One of the Warblers says he saw you together."

This time Kurt's sure his heart stops. He narrows his eyes and tries to school his expression into something resembling confusion. "Saw us doing what, exactly?" he asks.

Even though they're alone Rachel leans in conspiratorially and whispers, "Making out."

Kurt's jaw goes slack, and it feels like his mouth is stuffed with cotton.

"I…uh….what?" he stammers.

"He said he _saw_ you, Kurt. Please tell me he was lying." Her face gently pleads with Kurt; she doesn't want to believe the truth. Kurt can make this go away. He can. No one needs to know. It's just some random guy from the Warblers. If New Directions beats them today, they won't see the Warblers again until next year, and Kurt will have graduated by then. He'll be safe.

"Kurt?" Rachel asks more softly this time, running a hand along Kurt's bicep. "It's not true, is it?"

Kurt takes a deep breath, as an idea pops into his head.

"Of course not, Rachel," he says. "He's probably just trying to psyche us out before the competition or something."

Rachel looks thoughtful for a moment.

"I never thought of that," she says. "That would make sense, I guess. I think he knew I was spying, the weasel."

"See?" Kurt says, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "A perfectly _logical_ explanation." He smiles at his friend, and thanks his lucky stars she believes him. "Now, can we go kick some Warbler butt? You, Miss Berry, have a flawless duet to perform."

Rachel smiles up at Kurt. "And you, sir, need to wow the judges with your stunning countertenor, which may not be nearly as powerful as my soprano, but it's equally flawless and quite heartbreaking to hear."

Kurt laughs because the backhanded compliment is just so perfectly her. Because in Rachel Berry's world, the highest praise one can be given is to be compared to the "star" herself.

"Shall we?" Kurt asks, holding out a crooked elbow for Rachel to take. He opens the door and allows Rachel to exit first, pulling Kurt along behind her.

Kurt is relieved to have that brief moment of panic behind him, but now he's got to find Blaine.

* * *

"I don't fucking believe this," Santana says. "Hummel fucking choked."

"He didn't choke," Tina argues. "He only messed up the one verse. I bet the judges hardly noticed."

"Keep telling yourself that, Connie Chung."

"Alright, alright," Blaine shouts. "That's _enough_. Santana, we're a team. Kurt made an honest mistake. No one is going to beat him up over it."

Kurt is leaning on the wall in the back of the room, staring at the floor. His blue eyes are shining, on the verge of tears.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Rachel asks softly, stroking a hand over Kurt's arm. "It was an honest mistake, sweetie. No one blames you."

"Yeah, and you recovered real quickly, dude," Finn adds. "I hardly even noticed."

"Oh for crying out loud," Santana interjects. "Am I the only one here who has a fucking clue? We are screwed."

"Everyone needs to just calm down," Blaine says. He needs to get some of these kids out of the room so he can talk to Kurt. "Quinn, Brittany, can you take Santana outside to cool off? Puck, Artie, Sam, can you find us all some bottled water while we wait for the results. Everyone else, please just give Kurt some space. Rachel, Finn, will you go find Kurt's dad please?"

Only a few members of New Directions remain, and they're the quieter ones of the group. Blaine figures it's safe to talk to Kurt with Mercedes, Tina, and Mike huddled together on the opposite side of the room and Rory and Sugar busy making googly eyes at each other nearby.

"You okay?" he says, approaching Kurt. "You did great, really. The audience barely noticed."

"It's not that," Kurt says. "I mean, it sort of is. I was distracted up there, and I definitely screwed up, but…"

Kurt trails off and Blaine doesn't know what to do or say. He knew Kurt was stressed before the performance, but he didn't think he'd struggle with his solo. If something threw him off his game, it has to be big.

"But what, Kurt?" he asks, trying to sound as supportive as possible.

"He saw us," Kurt says, his voice so low Blaine barely hears it.

"What?" he asks.

No sooner than the word is out of his mouth, it occurs to him what Kurt is saying. Someone had seen them kissing back stage. Blaine's moment of weakness, and he was caught.

"What do you mean? Who saw us?"

"Some Warbler," Kurt replies. "Rachel heard him talking about it."

"Wait… _Rachel_ knows?" Blaine asks.

"Not exactly," Kurt replies.

Blaine narrows his eyes at Kurt. This could be very bad. Why isn't Kurt being more forthcoming with the details? Blaine's frustration flares up and bubbles over.

"What do you mean by _not exactly_?" Blaine is trying to keep his voice even, but even he knows there's anger in his tone.

Kurt looks up and his eyes are rimmed red and swimming in tears.

"Well _obviously_ I denied it," he says through clenched teeth. "I'm not an idiot."

The anger flashing in his blue-green eyes is menacing, and Blaine knows he has broken some unspoken rule. Kurt may be sexy when he's annoyed, but Blaine does not want to be on his bad side, especially not on this. Blaine feels the tension leave his face as his anger fades.

"I don't think you're an idiot," Blaine says softly. He wishes he could reach out and hold Kurt to drive the point home, but he knows that's not an option. He places a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder. That's a safe enough gesture for a teacher comforting his student, he reasons. He feels Kurt's shoulder tense as he makes contact, and then slowly relax.

Blaine leans down to try to catch Kurt's gaze, which has shifted to a stain on the carpet. He seems to be willing himself not to cry, or maybe he's trying not to scream. Whatever it is, Blaine wants to make it stop. The thought that his actions might have caused Kurt even a little bit of pain tears him up inside.

Blaine suddenly feels incredibly guilty for dragging Kurt into this mess. If only he could keep himself in check around Kurt. Stay in control better. He's the adult in this situation. Why can't he act like one?

Of course, if he were to apologize to Kurt, he would tell Blaine he didn't drag him into anything. Kurt would never let Blaine take the blame, and he would scoff at the notion that he wasn't mature enough to know what he was getting into. Blaine almost laughs out loud at the thought. When had he gotten to know Kurt so well?

Kurt finally makes eye contact again, and Blaine feels that familiar tug. There's another moment that he wants to bottle up and savor and then smother Kurt in kisses and caresses while they make plans for their future. But they're in public. And they're 22-year-old Mr. Anderson and 18-year-old Kurt. All they have right now is eye contact. There will be no kisses or caresses. No plans made. And right now it's just not enough. Blaine wants so much more.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt." He reaches up to stroke Kurt's cheek with his thumb and Kurt leans into the touch, closing his eyes. He sighs at the same time Blaine realizes what he's doing. Blaine jerks his hand back, dropping it at his side. Kurt's eyes snap open. Blaine sees a momentary flash of shock in Kurt's eyes before he jerks his head around to look around the room in the desperate hope that no one has seen his slip-up.

Rory and Sugar are deep in conversation. _Good_. Mike is braiding Tina's long, black hair while she reads something out of a magazine to him. _Okay_. That just leaves … Mercedes.

_Oh no._

Mercedes is transfixed, staring a hole right through Blaine. Her jaw goes slack and her widen as the pieces to the puzzle all begin to slide into place. She looks from Kurt to Blaine, scowling at her teacher. _She knows._

Her gaze goes back to Kurt, and her expression shifts from shock and confusion to deep concern. Blaine follows her line of sight and nearly gasps from what he sees. The confident, sexy Kurt he has come to know is nowhere to be found. Right now he's just a confused 18-year-old — a lost, lonely little boy. No wonder she's worried. Kurt looks broken. And it's all Blaine's fault.

"Kurt?" a deep voice calls out from the hallway. Blaine and Kurt both look toward the door at the sound.

"In here, Mr. Hummel," Tina replies, looking up from her magazine.

Burt Hummel walks through the doorway, followed by a woman who must be his wife, and then Finn and Rachel. All four look concerned, but Burt mostly looks determined. His jaw is set in a hard line as his eyes search the room for his son.

Blaine's stomach feels like it's landed with a thud in his shoes. What if Rachel told Kurt's dad what she heard? He's a dead man. Blaine bites his lip, takes a deep breath in and squares his shoulders. He holds out a hand to the approaching man.

"Mr. Hummel, I'm Blaine Anderson," he says as the older man takes his hand in a firm shake. "I thought maybe Kurt…"

"You all right, kiddo?" Burt asks, ignoring Blaine, his eyes falling on Kurt.

"Yeah dad," he says. "I just messed up."

Kurt's voice is even and doesn't betray any of his inner turmoil, but looking closely, Blaine sees a darkness in Kurt's eyes that reveals the truth. Blaine quietly hopes Kurt's father isn't as good at reading Kurt's facial expressions as he is, because it's obvious Kurt's not being honest with him.

"Somehow I don't think that's the whole story," Burt says.

Kurt glares at his father. There's no real venom in it, but he's obviously angry that his dad has called his bluff.

"I'm fine," Kurt says through clenched teeth.

"Whatever you say," Burt says with a shrug. "We'll talk later, son."

He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at Kurt. The tilt of his head and raised eyebrow are so very Kurt that Blaine can't help but smile. Burt's obviously used to dealing with his son's deflections and knows to wait it out. Unfortunately that also means he now turns his attentions to Blaine.

"So Anderson, want to tell me what's going on here?"

Blaine's blood runs cold, at least he thinks that's the term for the terror that surges through him, at Kurt's father's words. He feels like his brain is on overdrive and he can't even _think_ of words, let alone form them on his tongue.

"I, uh…" Blaine stammers.

"Yo, Mr. A!" Artie shouts as he, Sam and Puck enter the room. Blaine's breath escapes in a rush of relief at the sound of his name. "The judges are ready," Puck adds. "They're calling for us in the auditorium."

Blaine's eyes turn to his students, and he sees several other members of New Directions are now milling about. He's never been so grateful for an interruption in his life.

"Sorry, Mr. Hummel," he says, turning back to Burt. "Can we talk about this later?"

Burt nods.

"Great," Blaine says with a smile, suddenly feeling very lucky. He turns to face the group. They look exhausted and dejected. But he knows they did their best, and even with Kurt's minor flub, they were still really, really good. Blaine is certain they still have a chance to take the competition So he brings out his best performance-grade smile and turns on the charm. "OK guys, let's go find out who we beat to win this thing!"

There are a few whoops and catcalls from the group, their expressions brightening as they file out of the room. Blaine smiles fondly at them. He takes a second to look around to make sure they haven't forgotten anything, and he spies Kurt, still glued to the spot where he had been since they came off stage, with his arms crossed and eyes downcast. His dad has a hand on his shoulder and seems to be giving him a pep talk. Kurt gives a small nod and then reaches up to hug his dad. Blaine suddenly feels like he's trespassing on something private, so he exits the room and heads for the stage, heart beating a rapid tempo in his chest.


	11. Chapter 11

"Becky, I think we have ourselves a problem here."

"What's that coach?"

"That joke of a glee club just won at regionals. Anderson is still breathing my air, and Sandbags has failed me," Sue says, an air of exasperation in her voice.

A knock at the door derails Sue's complaints, though.

"Come in," she shouts.

A smug-looking Santana saunters into the room, her sleek ponytail bouncing behind her.

"I have news, Coach," she says.

Sue raises an eyebrow but otherwise gives no indication of her interest in hearing Santana's news.

"There's a rumor," she says. "About Lady Lips and our preppiest little teacher."

Sue's grin spreads from ear to ear as she leans toward Santana, leaning heavily on her forearm. Maybe Santana hasn't failed her after all.

"Tell me more," she says.

* * *

Two weeks later, and Kurt's starting to think it had all been a dream. After New Directions' miraculous win at regionals— apparently the judges cared less about flubbed lyrics and more about missed dance steps — Blaine had been noticeably distant. At first he had thought it was because of the almost-confrontation with his dad, but Kurt had diffused that situation quickly, reassuring his dad that Kurt had just choked thanks to good old-fashioned stage fright. It was also clear that Rachel hadn't said anything about what she'd overheard.

Kurt had immediately texted Blaine to tell him they were in the clear. But he never got a response. Kurt understood that getting seen by someone had shaken Blaine, but what Kurt couldn't understand was why Blaine felt the need to avoid him altogether. And that hurt.

Their limited interactions at school had also been distant, and with winter break rapidly approaching, Kurt was running out of chances for forced interaction. Every time he tried to get Blaine into a private conversation, he either changed the subject or left the room completely. Kurt was so confused, and he had no one to talk to about it.

If he had stopped to think about it, he might have considered that his heart was breaking, but instead he just got more determined to regain his fragile friendship with his teacher. He was also busy salvaging his friendships in glee. Thanks to his flub at regionals, he felt like an outcast in his own clique. No one was particularly cruel, but he felt the invisible walls everyone had been putting up. The only exceptions to this had been Finn, Rachel, Mercedes, Tina, and by proxy, Mike.

Rachel is her usual self, prodding at him about his poor moods, no matter how much Kurt insists he is fine. Mercedes, on the other hand, is another matter entirely. She keeps asking him about Mr. Anderson and why there is sudden tension. And even what had happened at regionals. Her suspicions are becoming exhausting, and Kurt feels ready to cave. So he avoids her. Instead, he starts spending more time with Tina, if only for the fact that she doesn't seem to notice his mood swings. He never thought he'd be so grateful for her absorption in her relationship with Mike.

Without realizing it, Kurt has walked all the way to his second period class without remembering the journey.

"Hey Kurt wait up!" Tina is calling out to Kurt from somewhere behind him. He turns to see her weaving through the throng of bodies meandering its way down the hallway. She nearly trips on a girl with braces and almost gets taken out by some letterman jacket-wearing hulk of a baseball player. When she catches up to Kurt, her long hair is obscuring half her face and she's slightly out of breath.

"Hey," he says halfheartedly. "What's up?"

Tina puffs out a well-aimed breath and her hair flies out of her eyes. She smooths it down with a free hand and smiles at Kurt.

"Sooo," she begins, a look of trepidation on her face. "Winter break starts tomorrow, and I know you've been down."

"Tina."

"Just listen," she pleads.

Kurt rolls his eyes and hopes he manages to convey his lack of patience for whatever it is she's about to say because he's two seconds from walking into his classroom and ignoring her completely. She must get the hint because her face softens and she gives him a warm smile.

"Look, I know you've been down. And I don't pretend to know what it's about, and I know you don't want to talk about it. I won't pry. I just thought maybe we could have a sleepover at my place. You, me, Mercedes. Even Rachel if she promises not to sing 'Cabaret' at the top of her lungs again. My mom thinks she's got a condition or something."

Kurt snorts out a small laugh at that. Tina smiles.

"What do you say?" she asks, bumping his shoulder with hers. "It will be fun. We'll eat junk food, give each other facials. Talk about boys." She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Kurt considers it for a long moment. It could be good to have the distraction, even if only for a night. The fact that none of them know about him and Mr. Anderson might keep him from thinking about it for a while.

"Okay," he says, forcing his best fake smile as the bell rings. "What time?

Tina jumps a little at the sound. "I'll text you," she says beaming. "It's gonna be so much fun!"

She practically skips down the hallway, looking an awful lot like Rachel.

* * *

Kurt shows up at Tina's promptly at 8, overnight bag and a small case containing at least half a dozen creams, masks, and various other skin products firmly in hand. Tina's mother answers the door and after politely asking Kurt about his father, waves him in the direction of Tina's bedroom. Rachel is already there, sitting at the foot of Tina's bed, flipping through a gossip magazine.

"Can you believe she's dating Jake Gyllenhaal?" she asks, shoving the magazine in Tina's direction.

"Hey Kurt," Tina says, spotting him in the doorway.

"I brought Aveda," he says, falsely bright. Rachel is on her feet faster than he can blink. She grabs the case and sets it down on Tina's bed and begins rummaging through it. She squeals in delight when she finds a particular almond mask she'd been dying to try.

"May I?" she asks, waving it in Kurt's direction.

He nods, and Rachel is off the bed in a flash, headed down the hall to the bathroom.

"I'm glad you came," Tina says.

"Not as much as Rachel is," Kurt jokes. At Tina's serious look he says, "I'm glad too."

She throws an arm around him in a quick hug, just as Mercedes' voice rings out from the hallway.

"I saw my boy Kurt's car in the driveway. There better be cheesecake," she says. "And it better not be any of that vegan crap Rachel insists tastes like the real thing."

"Would I ever subject you to such a thing?" Kurt says in mock horror.

Mercedes smiles at him as Tina grabs both their bags and drops them in a heap on the floor next to the bed.

"Let's find a movie before Rachel gets back and makes us watch 'Rent' for the 50th time," Tina says.

"Hey…I like 'Rent,' " Kurt says.

"Are you telling me you want to watch it _again_?" Mercedes asks, picking up a copy of "Moulin Rouge," and dropping it in a small pile when Tina nods her head.

"No, I guess not," Kurt says, reaching for "When Harry Met Sally" and adding it to the pile.

Two hours later, and they're glutted on veggie pizza — Rachel having brought her own homemade vegan one — and starting their second rom-com of the night.

About two minutes in, Rachel grabs the remote and pauses the movie, turning toward her friends.

"I'm bored," she says.

"We could always play truth or dare," Tina says. "As long as we keep our voices down." She throws an admonishing look at Rachel, who just smiles at her.

"I'm in," Mercedes says.

"Kurt?" Rachel singsongs, waggling her eyebrows.

"Fine," he says, "but I'm not streaking through the neighborhood. So you can just get that out of your heads."

Tina giggles and Rachel claps her hands together excitedly.

"I'll go first," she says.

"Okay," Kurt says. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Rachel says.

Kurt looks thoughtful for a moment, even though he knows exactly what he wants to ask.

"Last week when Finn asked for my opinion on control-top versus sheer stockings, was that for you or him?"

Rachel blushes and squeaks as she flops to the side, burying her head in a pillow. Kurt can just make out a muffled "both" over Mercedes and Tina's giggles. He reaches over to pull the pillow away and says, "What was that?"

She sits up, brushing her bangs out of her face and squares her shoulders.

"I'll have you know Finn has very nice legs."

Mercedes and Tina fall into fits of giggles again as Kurt looks thoughtful. He'd never considered it before, but he can kind of see the appeal of Finn in … holy shit he's thinking about his stepbrother in women's lingerie!

"Oh god," Kurt says as he shudders at the thought, and it's Rachel's turn to giggle.

When the laughter dies down, Mercedes turns to Kurt smiling. "Your turn," she says.

"Yeah, Kurt," Tina says. "Truth or dare?"

Kurt thinks for a moment, knowing his friends have questions they've been dying to ask him and weighs it against the possibility of whatever embarrassing thing they might dare him to do.

"Dare," he says finally.

"Okay," Mercedes says and pauses for a moment before grinning lecherously at him. "I dare you to text Mr. Anderson and tell him you're thinking of him."

Kurt feels as if the floor has dropped out below him and there's a hard lump in his throat that he can't seem to swallow. His heart races as he tries to keep his face neutral, willing himself not to panic.

"What?" he says when he feels like he can finally manage words.

"I dare you to text Mr. Anderson and tell him you've been thinking about him…" Mercedes says, grinning. "All. Day."

Her eyes are twinkling, and Kurt can tell she thinks the dare she's just devised is probably the most ingenious thing anyone has ever thought up. And he wants to strangle her. He glances over to Tina and then to Rachel, but they're both staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Rachel speaks first.

"Come on, Kurt," she says. "It's a dare. You have to do it."

"Oh guys, I don't think…" Tina begins.

"No," Kurt interrupts, lifting his chin and glaring down his nose at them. "I'll do it."

With shaking hands, he reaches for his phone behind him. He grips it tightly and slides his finger across the screen. He pretends to search for Blaine's number, even though it's the first person in his contacts because he had texted him just that morning.

Maybe if he cuts to the chase, Blaine will respond. He had tried being casual, he'd tried begging. Perhaps it's time to be direct.

From Kurt (10:28 p.m.)  
 _I've been thinking about you all day._

He shows the text to Mercedes, careful to obscure his previous texts, and hits send.

"Do you think he'll respond?" Tina says softly, looking a little nervous on Kurt's behalf.

Kurt shrugs and they all stare at the screen of his phone waiting for a response. When one doesn't come right away, Rachel suggests they move on to Mercedes.

"Truth or dare?" Tina asks.

"Truth," Mercedes says.

"Are you and Sam dating?"

She smiles and nods slowly as Rachel gives Tina a smug look. Obviously they'd been speculating behind Mercedes' back. Kurt tries to act interested as they prod her for details, but the feel of his phone in his hands distracts him. The cold plastic presses into his palm as he grips it tighter, willing it to vibrate.

Another peal of laughter rings out from the three girls, and Kurt jumps. He nearly drops his phone when it buzzes in his hands a second later. His heart drops as he stares at the screen in disbelief.

From Blaine (10:32 p.m.)  
 _I think it's time we nix the singing lessons._

He doesn't even feel the tears as they begin to fall. But he feels Rachel's hand when it starts rubbing small circles on his back and Tina's hand on his knee. He looks up to meet three pairs of concerned brown eyes, and he chokes back a sob.

"He hates me," Kurt blurts out just before he proceeds to tell his three closest friends that he's in love with their teacher.

* * *

Rachel gets jolted out of her sleep by a voice whispering her name in her ear, as a hand shakes her shoulder. She blinks a few times and sees that it's just starting to get light out. When she gets her bearings, she rolls over and rubs the sleep from her eyes, only to be greeted with a wide-awake Kurt, who is smiling down at her ruefully.

"I'm going to head home," he whispers.

"You okay?" she manages to get out, even though her mouth still feels like it's stuffed with cotton.

"Yeah," he says, trying to smile. "I just don't feel like talking anymore. We can all go shopping later this week."

Rachel smiles, and stares after him as he grabs his stuff and makes his way out of the house quietly. She reaches over to nudge Tina.

"Hey," she whispers as loudly as she can without waking Mercedes, who is thankfully a pretty heavy sleeper. "Hey….Tina."

Tina mumbles something incoherent as she pushes up from her stomach and rolls over toward Rachel.

"What time is it?" she asks.

"I think we should go talk to Mr. Anderson about Kurt," Rachel blurts. Tina looks wide awake suddenly as she nods slowly.

* * *

"I'm not sure this is entirely appropriate," Tina says. "Are you sure Kurt would be okay with us doing this?"

"Of course not," Rachel says. "But that's not why we're doing this. He's upset, and Mr. Anderson can fix it."

Tina feels unsure, but follows Rachel into Mr. Anderson's apartment building and stands firmly at her side when she knocks sharply at the door.

Their teacher opens the door looking completely different than they've ever seen him. He's wearing a faded t-shirt and sweatpants and his hair is a mess of curls. He looks like he hasn't shaved in a couple of days, and he's wearing glasses.

"Rachel…Tina?" he says, running a hand self-consciously through his hair. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to talk about Kurt," Rachel says. She never fails to get right to the point.

Mr. Anderson's face falls, but he recovers quickly with a polite smile.

"What about Kurt?" he asks. "Is everything okay?"

"Well, that remains to be seen," Rachel says. "May we come in?"

"Um….sure," Mr. Anderson says, opening the door wider and gesturing them inside. "Would you like anything to drink? I think I have some juice…water?"

"We're fine thank you," Tina says as Rachel takes off her coat and makes herself at home on the sofa.

Mr. Anderson follows her and sits in a small chair to left of the sofa and gestures for Tina to sit.

"Mr. Anderson," Rachel begins. "I'm sure you've noticed that Kurt hasn't been himself lately."

"I have," he replies.

"Well, we suspect," Rachel says, looking to Tina. "That perhaps you know what happened. He won't really talk to any of us, and I know you've become a mentor of sorts to him."

"Why would you think he would confide in me?" Mr. Anderson asks, looking completely confused. "If he's not confiding in you," he adds, gesturing between them.

"He trusts you," Tina says softly.

Mr. Anderson's mouth falls open at that. He looks like he wants to say something, but he closes his mouth just as quickly.

"Did something happen?" Rachel asks, giving him a pointed stare.

Tina turns her head to gape at Rachel. What the hell is she thinking? This isn't part of their plan. Kurt will kill them if he finds out they've told Mr. Anderson what he said in confidence.

"I told you, I don't know," Mr. Anderson replies looking incredibly uncomfortable as he fidgets in the chair.

"Could you try and talk to him?" Tina asks trying to guide the conversation back to what they came for.

"Tina, I don't think it's really appropriate for me to get involved in Kurt's personal problems. Perhaps Miss Pillsbury would be a better option."

"Please," she says. "He's so sad."

Mr. Anderson looks at her with an expression she can't quite place. Maybe he really does have feelings for Kurt. It doesn't really matter, though. She just wants her friend to stop hurting.

"I'll see what I can do," he says finally. "But I'm not making any promises."

"No, of course not," Rachel says, beaming.

"Thank you," Tina says, grabbing Rachel's arm and dragging her toward the door. "I'm sorry we bothered you."

When they're safely outside, Tina turns to Rachel.

"God that was embarrassing," she says.

Rachel's eyes are gleaming and her smile is almost blinding as she ignores Tina's statement.

"Did you see his reaction?" she says. "He's worried about Kurt."

"Yeah…So?"

"So?" she asks, getting more excited and high pitched as she speaks. "Tina, he's got feelings for Kurt. It obvious!"

"It is?" Tina asks. What has Rachel been smoking?

"Oh my gosh…we have to tell Kurt!"

"Rachel, no," Tina says. "He _cannot_ know that we came here."

Rachel smiles at her and pats her arm. _God, we're in so much trouble_ , Tina thinks.

* * *

Blaine hadn't planned on ignoring Kurt. It just sort of happened while he was trying to figure things out.

When New Directions had left the stage with their first place regionals trophy, Blaine was avoiding Kurt's entire family. He didn't know what Mr. Hummel had heard, and he really didn't want to find out. Maybe it was cowardly letting Kurt deal with any potential fallout, but he couldn't face Kurt's dad. So he ran.

And when he had gotten a text that same night assuring him that Rachel hadn't blabbed, he breathed a small sigh of relief, but he didn't reply. Because it wasn't enough. Blaine wanted to say so much to Kurt, but he was still terrified. They'd been seen. Even if they weren't caught this time, there was no reassurance that the Warbler whom Rachel had overheard would keep his mouth shut. No. Blaine had to pull away. Even being friends with Kurt was too dangerous. So he didn't reach out.

He had actually intended to respond to every text Kurt sent. Tell him why he had withdrawn. But every time he tried, he couldn't think of a safe enough response. So he let it go, and let it go. Until two weeks had passed, and Blaine had formed a routine that didn't involve texting Kurt, or talking to Kurt outside of class, or having coffee with Kurt. Unfortunately it didn't involve not thinking about Kurt, though.

Still, he slowly he gets back to the rhythm of his life before Kurt had proposed friendship. Coming home at night and watching TV, playing the piano for himself, singing along with his iPod, taking out the trash, going to the gym, grading.

He feels numb.

Kurt's presence had been electric and wonderful. The lack of it makes everything else pale in comparison. Things that had once given Blaine comfort and happiness, now feel empty and cold. Thinking about it makes it worse, so he throws himself into his work. Lets himself get lost in editing essays on Shakespearean sonnets and 19th century literature. Circling misspelled words and jotting notes in the margins. There's something soothing about the ritual of it, the scratch of the pen across the page.

That's why on a snowy Saturday night in December, he's grading essays instead of going out with a group of college friends who are in Columbus for the weekend. It's easier to stay focused on grading that way, and the alcohol and the lights and music would just weaken his resolve to contact Kurt. It almost works. He barely thinks about Kurt.

Kurt, who pleads with his captivating eyes every day from the front row of the classroom. Kurt, who smiles warmly at him as he sings in the choir room. Who texts him funny little things like "Heidi Klum has lost it… That dress is a train wreck" and "If Rachel thinks we're singing Taylor Swift at nationals, she's delusional" as if nothing had ever happened. Kurt, whose presence makes Blaine's ears tingle and his heart sing, and every other silly clichéd reaction you can think of.

No, Blaine barely thinks of Kurt, whom he misses terribly.

A knock at the door makes him scratch an angry red line across the essay he's grading. Well, the essay he was _trying_ to grade while daydreaming about Kurt. He slams down the pen and calls out, "Just a minute!" while he runs a hand over his hair to smooth down his wayward curls and adjusts his glasses. He looks down at his worn out Dalton t-shirt and baggy sweat pants and sighs, hoping the person knocking at his door doesn't mind such a casual appearance.

He's not sure whom he planned on seeing when he opened the front door to his apartment, but after his visit earlier from Tina and Rachel, he's not sure what to expect. So as he throws open the door, his breath catches in his throat when he sees it's Kurt.

"Hi," Kurt says, sounding nervous, out of breath, and just a little bit perfect.

"Hi," Blaine replies, gripping the door tighter in his left hand as he holds it open. He feels like if he lets go of the stable wood beneath his fingers he'll fall. Right into Kurt's arms.

Except Kurt is standing with his arms — strong, smooth, perfect — folded across his body in a defensive gesture. If Blaine fell forward right now, he'd knock them both over and land with a thud on the hard tile floor of the hallway outside his apartment. So he grips the door even tighter and leans on the frame with his other hand for support.

Kurt's eyes flicker down to his arms so quickly Blaine can't be sure he actually saw it. Because now those startling blue-green eyes are locked on his again. And he can't speak.

"You haven't answered my texts," Kurt says matter-of-factly.

"No," Blaine replies just as simply. No apologies. He can't. He's not sorry for doing the right thing.

"I miss you," Kurt says. "I miss just talking to you."

Blaine sighs and drops his head. "I know," he mutters.

Kurt inches forward, Blaine can see his hands fall from their crossed position and then come up to grip his shoulders.

"Look at me," Kurt says. "Please."

Blaine raises his head, but keeps his eyes closed. He doesn't want this, and yet he does. He can't look into Kurt's eyes again. He'll lose. Every last ounce of resolve he's spent the last two weeks building up will be gone. He takes a deep breath, and when he opens his eyes, he meets Kurt's affectionate stare. His gorgeous, more-blue-than-green-today eyes are shining with emotion. Blaine's heart feels like it rips open in his chest, and everything he's been feeling floods his body in an instant.

"I just want to talk," Kurt says. "Can I come in?"

Blaine nods slowly. "Okay."

He steps back, and Kurt's hands fall away. Blaine opens the door wide enough for Kurt to step through and then closes it behind him. When Blaine turns back around, Kurt is sitting down on his worn leather sofa. He perches himself on the edge of the nearest cushion, knees bent and pressed together in front of him. His hands rest on his lap, posture ramrod straight. Kurt looks stiff, but not uncomfortable.

Blaine busies himself with gathering up the papers he'd been grading and stuffing them into the bag that had been leaning on the coffee table. He drops it next to the couch and sits down, careful to maintain a respectable distance from Kurt.

Blaine looks over at him. He hasn't moved. He's still sitting perfectly straight and tall, staring without blinking toward Blaine's small kitchen.

"I thought you hated me," Kurt says.

"Impossible," Blaine says.

"Then why?" Kurt turns to face him, eyes welling up.

"This isn't easy for me, Kurt."

"You think it's easy for me?" Kurt asks, anger shining out from behind his tears. Kurt's jaw is tight as he speaks, a sharp, ironic laugh escaping his lips.

"No, I know it's been tough," Blaine says, rubbing his hand on his face, the hint of stubble feels rough against his palm. He wishes he had thought to shave that morning. And it occurs to him that Kurt has never seen him like this: scruffy, hair wild, glasses obscuring his large hazel eyes, and dressed like a slob. He immediately feels self conscious next to Kurt, who as usual, looks like he walked out of a magazine. The look is a bit more casual than some of his usual ensembles, but the way the gray sweater clings to him, straps of fabric crisscrossing his chest, forces Blaine's eyes across his broad shoulders. Blaine feels small and stupid and not nearly good enough.

"You're scared," Kurt says, looking down at his hands. His neck stretches beautifully and Blaine is transfixed. "So am I. But I just thought…."

"Kurt," Blaine interrupts, his hand reaching for Kurt's shoulder. His head snaps up at the touch, eyes wide and, Blaine notices for the first time, red around the edges. He's been crying. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know."

And in that moment Blaine understands. Kurt loves him. He knows him heart and soul and loves him for it.

"I'm so sorry," he says, reaching for Kurt as he scoots across the couch cushions, pulling him tightly to his chest. Blaine feels Kurt collapse against him as he drags a hand through his hair and feels Kurt's elegant frame shudder with relief as he clings to Blaine and buries his face in his shirt.

Blaine instinctively presses a few light kisses to the top of Kurt's head. It occurs to him briefly that it should feel wrong, holding him like this, but it doesn't.

Because right now, he isn't Kurt's teacher. Not in this moment at least. Right now, they are equals. And Blaine is just a man, comforting the man he loves. He loves Kurt.

_Oh god, I love him._

He takes in a ragged breath at the thought and pulls Kurt tighter to him. He loves him. Desperately and impossibly. He's fallen in love with his 18-year-old student. He knows he should feel terrified, ashamed maybe. But he doesn't. Not anymore. Blaine feels nothing but complete adoration and the need to protect Kurt from ever questioning his feelings again.

"Would you believe me if I promised to never do it again?" he asks after a moment.

Kurt freezes. "What do you mean?"

Blaine exhales slowly and tries to calm his heartbeat. He rubs small circles on Kurt's back.

"I think I want to try to make this work," he says. "Me and you, that is."

"Blaine?" Kurt says, pulling away and looking up at him with wet blue eyes. He's searching for something. The truth? That shred of fear that's kept them both at arm's length for so long? Blaine wants to crush that doubt under his foot. Stomp it out and convince Kurt that this time it's real.

"Will you have me?" he asks.

Kurt doesn't reply. Not with words, anyway. His eyes flutter closed and he leans up to press his lips softly to Blaine's. He pulls away and smiles. It's coy and shy and completely adorable.

"I feel like I've been yours from the moment we met," Kurt says.

Blaine doesn't wait for another response; he surges forward to capture Kurt's mouth in a bruising kiss. Mouth parted, tongue searching. Kurt gasps, and he pushes in stronger, gripping the back of Blaine's head. Blaine's never allowed himself to be this free with Kurt before, and it's exhilarating. Every other kiss has always been tinged with guilt and shame, even fear. But this…this is everything. And Blaine is drunk with it.

While he's still semi-coherent, Blaine forces a moment of clarity, and he pulls back from Kurt's mouth. His eyes don't leave the bright pink lips right away, though, because he wants to dive right back in and claim them as his own. But he has something he needs to say.

"I promise you, I will never run away scared again," he says, looking up to meet Kurt's eyes and holding his face in his hands. Blaine tries to project every last drop of sincerity that he has into that one look. He needs Kurt to understand. "This is real to me, and I want this to work. But we have to be honest with each other. Okay?"

Kurt's eyes crinkle around the edges as his mouth slowly turns up into a soft smile. He nods slowly.

"Then I think you should know, I want to talk about how this whole thing is going to work, but first," Blaine says, grinning, "I really, really want to kiss you again."

"Okay."

* * *

Blaine starts out slow, kissing the tip of Kurt's nose and each soft, closed eyelid. His lips brush across Kurt's left cheek and then his right, before Blaine slips a hand under his chin and lifts ever so slightly to press his lips softly against Kurt's parted mouth.

Kurt gasps in a ragged breath before relaxing into the kiss. He wants to remember this moment for the rest of his life, with Blaine's hand carding through his hair and his knee digging into Kurt's side, as they twist awkwardly on Blaine's sofa trying to get closer. Kurt wants more of Blaine, more of his kisses, more touches, more everything. It feels like too much and not enough all at once.

He tentatively flicks his tongue toward Blaine's mouth, finding it open and waiting. The tip of his tongue grazes Blaine's drawing out a small, pleased sound from the back of his throat. Kurt tries it again to see if he can get the same reaction. Another muffled moan. He pushes deeper, and Blaine latches onto his tongue this time, sucking lightly. Kurt feels like he might explode out of his body at the sensation. It's almost strange to have someone suckling on your tongue, but it's so erotic that he feels a spike of arousal shoot through him.

He reaches up instinctually to feel Blaine's cheek beneath his hands to ground himself in the moment; the feel of Blaine beneath his hand makes it all real somehow. The stubble scratches his palm, and it feels sandpapery and intoxicating. Kurt feels like he's floating, so he grips Blaine tighter. He leans his weight forward to counter the floating feeling and he catches Blaine off guard. They tumble backward onto the worn leather of the sofa, landing with a low "oof" from Blaine.

Kurt giggles when they bump noses. Blaine wraps his hands around Kurt's waist and pulls him down over him, their legs getting tangled beneath them.

"You smell amazing," Blaine says, nudging his face up with his nose and nuzzling into Kurt's neck.

When Kurt feels his tongue trailing a wet stripe along his jawline, he sighs.

"You _feel_ amazing," Kurt breathes.

Blaine's teeth, tongue, and lips drag along Kurt's neck, trailing down to his collarbone and back again. Kurt sighs and holds on to Blaine's shoulders for stability. He shifts his weight to give Blaine better access and feels the hard line of Blaine's erection against his thigh.

"Oh," he says, sitting up slightly. He can't go far, though, because Blaine is still holding him snugly to his chest.

"Everything okay?" Blaine asks. His pupils are dilated so widely it almost obscures the warm ochre of his irises, and his lips look so full and lush, Kurt can't quite remember why he had pulled away. When he fidgets, he feels his own erection pressing tightly against the zipper of his jeans and then he remembers.

"Um…yes?" Kurt says. "I think so."

"Kurt, we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," Blaine says, fixing a lock of hair that had fallen across Kurt's forehead.

"I know," he says. "Just caught me off guard. This is fine."

"You sure?" Blaine asks, and Kurt is so grateful for the concerned look on his face because there isn't the slightest hint of condescension. Blaine doesn't see him as a kid or something breakable. He just sees Kurt, and doesn't want to push.

Kurt manages a small "mmhmm" before Blaine's lips are on his once more. This time he's more aware of what these kisses might mean, so he grinds his hips down experimentally. Blaine's eyes go wide and he stops kissing Kurt for a moment.

"Kurt?"

He grins mischievously and raises an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

Blaine clears his throat and raises his eyebrows before breaking into a close-lipped smile.

"No," he whispers on an exhale.

There's a different gleam in his eyes than before. Just a little extra burning need than he's previously shown Kurt. It makes Kurt feel desired and sexy and powerful. He nips at Blaine's lower lip playfully. Blaine's hip snap up in response and Kurt feels the firm press of his cock through several layers of cotton. He has a fleeting fantasy about its size and shape before he drifts back into the sensation of Blaine's warm mouth and firm hands. He relaxes into the reassuring feeling of Blaine's body, pliant and writhing beneath him.

They begin to rut against one another, slowly at first, then building to a steady lust-filled rhythm. Kurt begins to lose track of everything but the slow drag of his cock against Blaine's thigh, the rough denim creating a harsh friction that he barely notices beyond the exquisite pleasure coursing through him.

It builds and builds and builds until he feels himself tipping over the edge. He vaguely hears Blaine murmur something that sounds like his name just seconds before Kurt feels his orgasm rush through him. Seconds later, he feels Blaine go rigid beneath him and Kurt opens his eyes in time to see Blaine's face tense in pleasure.

Kurt collapses on Blaine's chest and can't stop a laugh from escaping.

"I can't believe we just did that," he says.

"Me neither," Blaine rasps out beneath him.

Kurt wants to see his face, but can't bring himself to lift his head. He feels heavy and weightless all at once, and never wants to move again.

"You okay?" Blaine asks after a moment.

"Better than okay," Kurt replies, pressing a kiss to Blaine's chest. "I feel like flying."

Blaine laughs affectionately.

"You say that now, but wait until it starts to dry," he says, gesturing between them.

"Just shut up and hold me," Kurt says. "You're spoiling the moment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, my lovelies. I hope this extra long chapter more than made up for it. I'm still thinking this will clock in at 12 chapters (plus an epilogue?), but it could stretch to 13. Depends on the mood Kurt and Blaine are in. Either way, I'm sad we're nearing the end of our journey.
> 
> I'll gladly take suggestions for my next fic. Any ideas?


	12. Chapter 12

"Kurt," Blaine says quietly after a while.

"Mmm?"

"We should talk."

"Okay," is his only reply. A tentative whisper.

Blaine sits up, bringing Kurt with him. He starts to smooth his hair down and shifts uncomfortably in his now stained sweat pants.

"I could get you something clean to wear," he offers. "Wash your jeans?"

"Okay," Kurt replies again, not making eye contact and pulling at the hem of his sweater.

Blaine retreats to his bedroom, finding two clean pairs of pants before heading to the bathroom to change and clean up. He reemerges wearing a fresh pair of sweatpants and sporting freshly styled hair. It's not his usual gel helmet, but at least it's not sticking up all over anymore either.

He smiles softly at Kurt and hands him the other pair of sweat pants he had found.

"If you leave your pants in the bathroom, I can throw them in the wash and then we can talk," he says.

Kurt just nods and slowly makes his way down the short hallway to the bathroom. Blaine follows him with his gaze until he disappears from sight. Something is bothering him about Kurt's behavior, but he can't quite put a finger on it. Instead of analyzing it, Blaine busies himself making coffee and cleaning up the few dishes he left to soak in his sink. He hums as he works, and before long a sharp throat clearing from behind him alerts him to Kurt's presence.

"I left my clothes on the tub," he says, gesturing behind him. His eyes don't meet Blaine's, falling somewhere around the collar of his worn t-shirt.

"Okay," Blaine replies, trying to sound light and cheery. "Let me just go throw them in. Help yourself to some coffee. There's some flavored creamer in the fridge. Sugar's in the canister on the counter."

Kurt's nod is so small, Blaine barely notices it. He sighs softly to himself, not sure of what he wants to say to Kurt, but knowing that he meant everything he said earlier. He can't help but wonder, though, how they can manage to keep their relationship a secret until May. The idea is daunting, to say the least. It means meeting in secret and hiding their attraction, which Blaine knows from experience he sucks at. He's been told more than once that he has these ridiculous cartoonish heart eyes when he's infatuated with someone. Blaine is never aware he's doing it, but according to Wes, he has a really hard time not looking at someone he adores in any other way, much to his own oblivious horror. Knowing what he and Kurt had just shared will likely be written all over his face for days, he is thankful they have two weeks off from school to practice acting nonchalant around each other. _Unless, of course, it happens again,_ Blaine thinks.

A sudden vision flashes brightly in his mind: Kurt falling apart above him as Blaine kissed him, the two of them moving together in a perfect rhythm. Blaine picks up Kurt's clothes and shakes his head, trying to clear the decidedly impure thoughts before he gets too far down that rabbit hole.

Blaine takes special care to wash Kurt's jeans and — _oh dear god, his sinfully tiny, purple boxer briefs are so incredibly sexy and fuck that means he's not wearing any_ — underwear in cold water in his apartment-sized washing machine that's hidden in his joke of a hall closet. He shifts a little as an erection threatens to form again. If Kurt only knew the effect he had on Blaine, he'd probably blush from the tips of his adorable ears all the way down to his designer boots. He laughs quietly to himself.

_Keep it in your pants, Anderson. You need to talk to him first._

When he returns to the living room, Kurt is back on the sofa, long legs tucked underneath him as he sips tentatively from an oversized Ohio State coffee mug. He looks really young like that, cross-legged, a light flush coloring his cheeks and his usually perfect hair slightly mussed, and Blaine wonders yet again if he's doing the right thing. But then Kurt looks up and smiles at him, blue eyes crinkling at the corners, and he feels more sure of himself than he has in his entire life. Later he will muse about how Kurt makes everything just feel right, but for now he just lets the feeling wash over him as he spots another mug resting on the coffee table.

"I put a little cinnamon in it," Kurt says.

"Thanks," Blaine says, scooping up the mug and inhaling the sharp, spicy scent before taking a hesitant sip and sitting next to Kurt on the sofa. "So," he says after he swallows.

"So," Kurt says, raising an eyebrow over his coffee as he brings it to his lips again.

"I don't regret it," Blaine blurts.

Kurt nearly chokes on his coffee, sputtering a little as he tries to swallow. "Oh thank god," he says when he finally manages to get it down. "I was so worried you were going to tell me we made a mistake."

"Kurt, I told you," Blaine says, placing a comforting hand on his knee. "I'm not running away again. Am I terrified? Sure. But I'm in if you're in."

"I'm in,' Kurt says, smiling.

"Good."

"But…" Kurt begins.

"But?"

"Well, I'm just wondering how all of this is going to work," Kurt says. His eyes are firmly fixed on his coffee as he takes another sip.

Blaine inwardly praises himself for making the coffee as he brings his own mug to his lips. Props always make difficult conversations easier. It's something to do with your hands when you don't know what to say or you need time to find your words. He uses it now.

"Well," Blaine says. "We obviously can't tell anyone. At least not until after you graduate."

Kurt nods slowly, draining more of his coffee. Kurt must like having a prop too.

"You should tell people you're dating someone, though," Kurt says suddenly, glancing sideways at Blaine.

Blaine raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side.

"Well, think about it," Kurt says. "That way if you're unavailable for social engagements or staying late to supervise detention or whatever, you have a cover."

Blaine nods. "Makes sense."

"And maybe he lives in Dayton or something. That way if you disappear for the weekend, no one will really think anything of it."

"Does he have a name too?" Blaine asks with a laugh.

"Funny," Kurt says, returning his attention to his coffee mug.

"I'm serious," Blaine says. "What if someone asks?"

"Make something up," Kurt says with a casual shrug.

"Why do I get the feeling you've thought about this before?"

"You know I _am_ capable of thinking on my feet," Kurt replies with a good-natured eye roll.

"Okay," Blaine says, throwing up a hand in mock surrender. He takes another sip of his coffee. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well, if you start disappearing all weekend, won't your friends notice? Rachel, for instance?"

"True," Kurt says. "I suppose I could tell them my dad has me working at the garage. I can tell my dad and Finn that I'm shopping with the girls or whatever. I'll figure it out."

Blaine nods, not entirely convinced. But Kurt knows his friends and family better than he does. And he trusts him.

"What about school?" Kurt says after a bit.

"Well, we have to be extra careful at school," Blaine says. "But since we've been together a lot already for rehearsals and stuff, as long as we don't change our behavior or usual patterns, we should be okay."

Kurt hums in agreement. "What about the _private_ lessons?" he asks, giving Blaine an exaggerated wink.

"I think we should keep them," Blaine says.

"I have a text that says otherwise," Kurt says, suddenly somber.

Blaine reaches out to run a hand through Kurt's hair.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, pressing a kiss to Kurt's temple. "So sorry. I thought if I cut off the extra contact, I could make you forget me." He watches his hand stroke through Kurt's loose, chestnut strands. "Obviously that plan didn't work."

"I don't think I could ever forget you," Kurt says, closing his eyes and leaning into Blaine's touch.

They stay like that for a minute, just reveling in each other's closeness. Blaine is loosely aware of their surroundings. He only vaguely notices that the room is cool and quiet, the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen peacefully interrupting the silence around them. When the washing machine clicks and starts a spin cycle, it startles Blaine out of his quasi trance.

"Hey," Blaine says. "You don't think we rushed things, do you?"

Kurt is quiet for a minute. He takes a sip of his coffee. Blaine feels his heartbeat accelerating. _What if Kurt regrets it?_

Kurt takes another sip. Blaine mirrors him when he swallows. Kurt inhales sharply like he's gearing up to speak and then stops himself. _Oh god he regrets it._ Kurt plays with the handle of his mug for a moment before draining his coffee and setting the mug on the coffee table.

"No, not really," he says, and Blaine lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His heart rate slowly returns to normal as Kurt continues. "I mean, I don't regret it. But maybe we should have talked before we …" He pauses and looks flustered.

"Had sex?" Blaine offers, setting down his coffee mug and reaching for Kurt's hand. "You can say it, Kurt. It's not a dirty word."

"I know, Kurt says, looking down at their hands before intertwining his fingers with Blaine's and stroking his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. "It's just that was the first time I'd done anything like that. I kind of wish I had savored it a little more, you know?"

A light blush colors his face, and Blaine can't resist. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Kurt's cheek. He can't take it back, but he can make sure Kurt remembers this night fondly. He nuzzles Kurt's cheek with his nose and leans in to whisper in Kurt's ear.

"I'll make it special next time," he says. "Promise."

"Next time?" Kurt says, turning his head and looking equal parts terrified and intrigued.

"Well, if you want to," Blaine says, pulling his hand away and gesticulating wildly. "And only if you're ready. No pressure."

"Blaine," Kurt says, reaching for his hands and stopping Blaine's frantic movements. "Blaine. I do…want to, that is." He lowers his head in embarrassment before looking back up at Blaine shyly. "Just maybe we could talk about what we both want…because I'm not sure I'm ready for …. You know."

"What?" Blaine asks, genuinely confused as to what Kurt is referring to.

Kurt's eyes shift away from Blaine's face like he's searching for a word he can handle saying without dying of embarrassment and it's so fucking charming that Blaine wants to strip him bare and ravish him right there.

"Kurt? You can tell me. I swear I'm not going to judge you, no matter what it is."

Kurt takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "Okay," he says. "So… I'm 110% fine with what we just did and anything _mutual_ like that. It's just…other stuff." He pauses and presses his lips together. He mumbles something Blaine can't quite make out.

"Wait…what?" Blaine says, leaning down toward Kurt's face and tapping his chin with a finger to get him to look up and open his eyes.

Kurt's eyes remain closed, but he squares his shoulders and says, "No penetration," before abruptly dropping his head in his hands and flushing a bright pink around his ears.

Blaine has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop a laugh from escaping. He doesn't want Kurt to think he's laughing at him. He understands. All too well, in fact.

It had taken him months of dating his first college boyfriend before he would even consider anything like that, and then they had gradually worked up to it. Blaine had found that he enjoyed it, preferring to top, but not really minding bottoming either. His boyfriend, Mark, however, was not a fan of topping or bottoming. So they worked on perfecting their oral technique and even experimented with orgasm denial. It was fun, but the relationship didn't last long. Blaine hadn't dated anyone seriously since.

"Kurt," Blaine says, tilting Kurt's head up again. "Look at me."

Kurt lifts his head, finally opening his eyes and blinking back tears.

"I would never push you do to anything you don't want to. Never. We can go at your pace, and I have no expectations. I didn't even mean for all of…that," he gestures around them at the sofa, "to happen. I got caught up in the moment, and I'm sort of embarrassed by my behavior. Don't get me wrong. It was great…but it wasn't part of some grand plan or anything."

Kurt's cheeks puff out as he gives Blaine a closed-lipped half-frown/half-smile that is full of affection and warmth. It's the same endearing look he gives his friends when they're singing sappy love songs to one another in glee. Blaine feels something in his chest blossom and spread through his body.

"I really care about you, Kurt," he says. "And we're in this together."

A warm hand grazes Blaine's cheek and twirls in the hair just above his ear.

"I didn't know you had curly hair," Kurt says, looking at his hand instead of Blaine's face. The subject change is abrupt and makes Blaine wonder if maybe he said the wrong thing.

"I didn't know you had skimpy purple underwear," Blaine replies.

Kurt's eyes go wide and he starts to pull away, but Blaine grabs his wrist. He strokes the soft skin where Kurt's veins make a spider web of blue beneath his fair skin.

"What I'm trying to say, Kurt, is that we get to know things about each other that no one else knows. We're going to have to keep a lot of secrets. Do you think you can do that?"

"Of course," Kurt says. "For instance, I would never tell anyone you have a Spiderman toothbrush." A broad grin spreads across Kurt's face, and Blaine laughs loudly.

"It was on sale," Blaine says.

"Sure it was," Kurt teases, picking at piece of pilled fabric on Blaine's sweats. When he looks back up to meet Blaine's eyes, a moment of tension and heat sparks between them. Kurt gropes for him as if they hadn't just gotten off minutes before and soon they are laid back on the sofa again, tongues and hands everywhere. When Blaine pulls back and suggests they cool off, Kurt nods solemnly in agreement.

"You know," Blaine says. "We have almost two full weeks until school starts back up. I as thinking…maybe we could do something together. Not in Lima obviously, but somewhere."

"Like a date?" Kurt asks, eyes brightening.

"Like a date," Blaine parrots, giving Kurt a seductive smile.

"I'd love to."

* * *

They spend the week leading up to Christmas stealing moments whenever they can. Kurt shows up at Blaine's apartment nearly every day. Sometimes they lounge around watching movies; sometimes they just talk. They always end up kissing, until it becomes too much and they have to choose between pulling away and pushing further. Blaine almost always chooses to back off. Kurt is equal parts relieved and disappointed.

And then one particularly lazy afternoon Kurt simply works on a paper for his history class while Blaine finishes some grading, playing footsie with each other under the table almost the entire time.

They never go out in public together, but it doesn't really matter to Kurt because they're together. Besides, there's something sweet and domestic about the pattern they've established. It makes Kurt feel grown up and in love.

So it makes it that much better when Blaine surprises him two days before Christmas, and they finally have their first date.

"So I hope you're wearing comfortable shoes," Blaine says when Kurt breezes through the door a little after 10 a.m.

"Why?" Kurt asks, drawing out the single syllable in suspicion.

"I have plans," Blaine says, his smile almost blinding it's so wide. Kurt can't help but return it. "All-day plans."

"Do I get a hint?" Kurt asks.

"Nope," Blaine says, kissing Kurt on the forehead. "It's a surprise."

He flits around his apartment while Kurt sits on the kitchen counter, lightly kicking the cabinets with his boots, which are thankfully quite comfortable. Kurt watches as Blaine runs from room to room, trying to hide whatever it is he's doing. Kurt has to stifle a laugh more than once when Blaine stumbles because he's walking sideways to hide something in his hands.

And then suddenly he's there in front of Kurt, holding a large duffel bag and a small thermos.

"Ready to go?" Kurt asks, pulling a playfully judgmental face.

"Mind if we take your car?" Blaine asks. "Your windows are tinted. It just seems safer."

Kurt passes him the keys and wraps himself up in his coat and scarf again as he follows Blaine outside.

By the time they reach I-75, Kurt is prickling with excitement and dying to know where Blaine is taking them. He heads south toward Dayton, and Kurt reaches for the radio, unable to sit in a quiet vehicle on a road trip.

He sings along to a few familiar songs, Blaine filling in on a few older ones Kurt doesn't know as well. Kurt reaches forward to turn up the volume when he hears the tinkling notes of a familiar tune. It's one of his favorite holiday songs, mostly because it doesn't mention god, but also because it's flirty and sweet, and it's the perfect romantic duet.

"I really can't stay," he trills. Blaine turns his head and smiles at him before picking up his cue.

"But baby it's cold outside."

By the time the song is over, they're giggling and Blaine's hand is resting on Kurt's thigh, rubbing small patterns on his skin. Kurt almost suggests pulling the car over, but they're on a highway in western Ohio and making out on the side of the road is not an option, even with tinted windows.

They stop and grab lunch at a sub shop after they hit I-70 west. It's across from a gigantic church and nestled in a hideous strip mall next to an Anytime Fitness.

"Please tell me _this_ isn't the date," Kurt grumbles, gesturing toward a dry cleaner's and a liquor store.

"Just the prelude," Blaine says. "I'm hungry. And trust me, you're going to need the energy."

Kurt's not sure if he meant the innuendo or not, but he's not taking any chances. He orders a large turkey sub and eats the whole thing, much to Blaine's amusement.

"Hey, I'm just following instructions," Kurt says. "Apparently my boyfriend has big plans for later."

As soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, he realizes he's just called Blaine his boyfriend, and they hadn't really discussed labels. Kurt fiddles with the wrapper from his sandwich and stumbles through a few unintelligible syllables before Blaine rescues him from his sudden panic.

"Well your boyfriend is still amused," Blaine says, taking another bite of his sandwich as if it's no big deal. And Kurt thinks maybe it isn't. Maybe it's just that easy.

Kurt feels his shoulders relax in relief that they've just had the "what are we?" talk without actually having it. He smiles and takes a sip of his diet soda.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" Kurt asks. "I mean if we're going to end up in Indiana, I should probably call my dad so he doesn't report me missing."

"We'll be back before your curfew," Blaine promises. "But nice try."

Kurt frowns and crumples the paper from his sub and gathers up the rest of the trash strewn over the table into a pile. He folds his hands under his chin to wait. Blaine takes an agonizingly long time finishing the four bites he has left of his sub, and Kurt can't help but think he's doing it on purpose. He taps his foot impatiently.

When Blaine swallows the last bite, Kurt shoves a napkin under his nose and grabs Blaine's wrapper along with the rest of the pile he had created and stands up to find a trash can. He can hear Blaine laughing at him, but he doesn't care. It's his first real date with his boyfriend, and he wants to get started.

He tugs Blaine up by his sleeve and grabs his drink, practically dragging Blaine to the car. When he hears Blaine laugh again, he turns to face him.

"Laugh all you want, Blaine Anderson, but if you're not going to tell me where we're going, I'm going to make sure we get there as soon as possible. Now get your cute butt behind that wheel and let's roll."

"You're adorable," Blaine says, leaning in for a soft peck. Kurt looks around to make sure there's no one watching. "We should go," Blaine adds when he senses Kurt's discomfort.

When they're safely back in the car, Kurt leans across the console and presses his lips to Blaine's.

"I know you've probably got something amazing planned, but I want you to know I don't care what we do today, as long as we're together. It will be perfect no matter what."

Blaine gives him a wide-eyed look with his lips pressed into a tiny smile, it's the same look that Kurt always feels in his fingertips, and he wonders if that's what love looks like. Because all the depth of Blaine's beautiful soul is written right there in that expression. Kurt tips his forehead forward to rest on Blaine's and smiles.

"Thank you," Blaine says.

"For what?" Kurt asks, pulling back in confusion.

"Just…everything," Blaine says. "For trusting me, for being you, for being brave enough to kiss me first."

"I didn't feel brave," Kurt says.

"You looked it," Blaine says. "And it was perfect."

"Even though you freaked out afterwards?"

"Even though I freaked out afterwards, yes," Blaine replies with a self-deprecating laugh.

He grabs the back of Kurt's neck and kisses his forehead before turning the car over and putting it into gear. They continue west on I-70 until they exit toward a tiny dot on the map, called Trotwood. It's even smaller than Lima. When Blaine pulls into an entrance marked Sycamore State Park, Kurt turns to him wide eyed.

"Here?" he asks.

"Don't worry," Blaine says. "I brought some extra clothes."

"For what?" Kurt asks, suddenly questioning his choice to trust Blaine implicitly.

Blaine puts the car in park in a small lot, and turns to face Kurt. His smile is wide enough to show all of his teeth and his dark eyebrows are nearly reaching his hairline.

"Ice skating," he says.

Kurt laughs at Blaine's childlike exuberance and can't help but get excited himself. Ice skating at Christmas with your boyfriend is incredibly romantic.

"It's not Rockefeller Plaza or anything…" Blaine says.

"I love it," Kurt interrupts. "It's perfect." And he bounds out of the car.

Blaine grabs the duffel and the thermos and follows Kurt down the path to the lake. They sit on a bench near the edge of the water and Blaine opens the bag, producing two pairs of ice skates.

"You bought me skates?" Kurt asks, voice pitching higher as he clutches his chest.

"It's no big deal," Blaine says, dropping his head shyly. "I just checked your shoe size last time you were over. I hope they fit."

Kurt snatches them from Blaine's hands and throws an arm around him, pulling him into a hug.

"Perfect," he says again.

Blaine smiles at him and keeps stealing glances as they lace up their skates.

They spend the afternoon chasing each other across the ice and teasing each other when they fall, breaking occasionally to kiss or flirt. When Kurt complains that he can't feel his toes, Blaine skates to edge of the pond and produces the thermos with a dramatic bow. They share the hot chocolate sitting on the bench, feet tangled together and feeling heavy with the weight of the metal blades on their skates.

When they've completely exhausted themselves, Blaine suggests they find a public restroom to clean up because he has dinner reservations in Dayton.

Kurt emerges in the sweater and skinny jeans Blaine had brought for him and Blaine feels like his heart stops. He knew Kurt's size, and suspected the cardigan would show off Kurt's strong frame. But he hadn't expected the vision of perfection that emerges from a sketchy looking men's room at a run-down truck stop. Kurt looks like sex on a stick the way the fabric hugs him everywhere.

"You look great in red," he manages to eek out.

"Thanks," Kurt says, looking down at his front. "Does it fit okay? I couldn't see much in the mirror in there."

"It fits perfectly," Blaine says, finally dragging his eyes away from Kurt's body and up to his eyes. "A little too perfectly actually."

Kurt lowers his head and Blaine wraps his arms around him, running his hands along the soft cashmere. Kurt shivers at the touch, or maybe from the cold. He's not wearing his coat, and it is December in Ohio after all. But Blaine can't bring himself to let Kurt go just yet.

When they finally pull away, Blaine picks up Kurt's coat from the backseat of the car and drapes it over Kurt's shoulders.

"Hungry?" he asks.

"Starving," Kurt replies.

"Good. I'm taking us to an amazing restaurant for dinner."

* * *

The restaurant is everything Blaine had promised. Kurt orders a decadent pasta dish with truffle oil and mushrooms. It's earthy and buttery, and Kurt thinks he may never want to eat ordinary food again. Blaine orders a steak that Kurt dubs "as big as his head," earning Kurt a laugh that he cuts off by rubbing his foot along Blaine's ankle under the table.

They eat in mostly companionable silence, stealing flirty glances over the candlelit table. When the server brings the dessert menu, Kurt's eyes roam the tiny print until he sees exactly what he wants: vanilla bean cheesecake with fresh whipped cream.

"Final verdict?" Blaine asks as their desserts are delivered along with two steaming cups of espresso.

Kurt picks up his fork as soon as the plate hits the table.

"I think I like this better than sex," Kurt says, digging it into his cheesecake and wrapping his tongue around it to lick every bit from the tines.

"The date or the cheesecake?" Blaine asks, laughing.

"Well, I meant the date," Kurt says. "But now that you mention it…." He brings the fork to his lips, moaning in a way that he knows will sound completely obscene and licking his fork even more suggestively than he had been before. "This cheesecake is _really_ good."

Kurt watches as Blaine pulls at his collar and licks his lips. He smirks down into his plate, loving that he can have that effect on his boyfriend. His boyfriend…his _boyfriend_ ….that he's had _sex_ with. Or at least something resembling sex. _It's still sex as long as there's an orgasm involved, right_?

"We're sort of doing this backwards, aren't we?" Kurt asks.

"Not really," Blaine replies.

Kurt lifts an eyebrow at him, not really sure what Blaine means.

"I guess I just don't like the idea of there being rules to relationships," Blaine says with a shrug. "We make our own rules." He takes a bite of his own dessert, a luscious-looking chocolate cake, and smiles at Kurt.

"You're such a romantic, Blaine Anderson."

* * *

By the time they get back to Lima, it's getting late, and there's a snowstorm threatening to ruin Blaine's plan of cuddling on the couch and watching "It's a Wonderful Life" until Kurt has to leave to make curfew.

"You should probably go home now," he says to Kurt after he drops the thermos in the sink and tosses the duffel next to the couch. "Before the roads get too bad."

"But baby it's cold outside," Kurt sings, sidling up behind Blaine and wrapping his arms around his torso to rub his hand along Blaine's abdomen.

"I'm serious Kurt," he says, trying to stand firm by lightly swatting at Kurt's hands, but he also leans into the touch. "I don't want to worry about you."

"But baby it's cold outside," he repeats, nuzzling into Blaine's hair.

"You simply must go," Blaine sings, laughing playfully as he changes up the lyrics to suit the situation and tries to ignore the soft, soothing feeling of Kurt surrounding him.

"It's cold outside," Kurt answers, pulling Blaine tighter to his chest.

"The answer is no," Blaine sings, feeling his skin prickle with desire.

"But baby it's cold outside," Kurt replies.

They both miss a line as Kurt's warm hand skirts near Blaine's waistband, but Kurt sings out the next lyric, soft and clear next to his ear.

"So nice and warm," Kurt teases, his lips trailing across Blaine's neck.

"Look out the window at that storm," Blaine responds in a whisper, no longer singing as his resolve wavers and crumbles at his feet. He reaches back to run his fingers through the hair at the base of Kurt's neck and feels Kurt begin to suck small marks into his skin.

Kurt spends the night at Blaine's that night, telling his dad he's staying with Tina. As Blaine sits with Kurt's feet in his lap, Kurt talks to his dad on the phone. Blaine listens to Kurt promise to be home by dinner the next day, and he uses some lame cover story about last-minute Christmas shopping and going into Columbus because the stores in Lima are "provincial." Blaine's not really sure outright lying is a good idea, but it buys them a few more hours anyway. So he lets Kurt weave his tale.

They watch the movie as planned but fall asleep on the couch before it's over. Blaine wakes up and forces them into bed around 3 a.m., laughing when Kurt clings to him and mumbles nonsense into his neck as he steers him toward the bed.

* * *

Blaine wakes up early the next morning to buy some groceries to make them breakfast. It's Christmas Eve and the roads have been plowed. But it still looks perfectly magical outside, and Blaine feels like he's hovering ten feet above the ground anyway. He hasn't felt this happy in a long time.

He leaves Kurt a note that he lays on top of his now clean clothes. Signing it with a tiny xo and a cheesy smiley face. He grins the whole way to the supermarket, singing along to the radio at the top of his lungs.

He's debating turkey sausage or bacon to go with the French toast he's planning on making, when he hears a familiar voice behind him.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite freak."

"Sue," Blaine replies with a stiff nod.

"Where's Porcelain?" she asks, looking around dramatically.

Blaine freezes. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears combined with a harsh rushing sound that floods his brain. He's vaguely aware of his lips moving, but no sound is coming out.

"Not here?" Sue says. "You're not having domestic problems are you, Clark Gable?"

"W-what on earth are you talking about?" he asks finally finding his voice.

"Oh nothing," Sue says, waving him off. "I'm sure it's just a rumor."

"What rumor?" Blaine says around a lump in his throat.

She leans in to stage whisper in his ear.

"Well, apparently one of your glee freaks overheard a juicy conversation from someone who claimed they saw you and the Gelfling playing tonsil hockey."

Blaine takes a deep breath. "It's just a rumor, Sue."

"But that's the beauty of it, Anderson. It only takes one little spark," she says, flicking the edge of his glasses, " to start a raging forest fire. Rumors are like matches, and I'm the gasoline."

Blaine rolls his eyes. "No one is going to believe that," he scoffs.

"You'd be surprised what people will believe," she says.

"You have no proof, Sue," he says, stepping into her personal space and trying to look as tall and menacing as he can manage. "And everyone knows you're bitter and out to get the glee club. People actually like me. They think you're a joke."

Her evil smile falters slightly, causing Blaine to relax a little and ease out a small smile of his own.

"I'll get proof," she says, lips curling in anger. "Watch your back."

"I'm shaking in my boots," he deadpans, trying to sound nonchalant, despite the truth in his words.

When she walks away, he sinks back against the case behind him and feels the chill of the refrigeration seep through his pants as he leans on it, trying to regain feeling in his feet.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's definitely going to be at least 14 chapters now. I somehow managed over 5,000 words for this chapter without hitting on any of my major plot points I have mapped out. Blaine was feeling romantic...sorry. ;)


	13. Chapter 13

"Will you tell Kurt I still have his blue cashmere scarf?" Rachel asks, fixing her hair in the mirror over her vanity as she talks. "He left it at my house the other day."

Finn doesn't reply. Rachel pulls the phone away from her ear to make sure the call hasn't been dropped. She still sees her boyfriend's face smiling back at her from the screen. She flips her hair out of the way to put it back up to her ear just in time to hear Finn's reply.

"Kurt?" he asks.

"Yes, _Kurt_ ," Rachel says, losing patience. Really Finn can be dim, but this is excessive even for him. "Your brother?"

"Yeah, I know who he is, but I thought he was with you," Finn replies.

"With me?" she asks, wondering if Finn has finally fried his brain with all those absurd video games. "Why would he be with me if he's scheduled to work at the shop?"

"Kurt's not scheduled to work," Finn says, sounding even more confused. "He hasn't worked at the shop in about three months. Something about not having enough time to get oil stains out of silk _and_ work on his solos."

Rachel's brain catches up long before Finn's. If Kurt hasn't been working at his dad's garage, he's been lying about where he's been for weeks. More importantly, Kurt has been hiding something from her. His best friend. That's completely unacceptable.

"Oh," she says, laughing it off. "Silly me, I must have misunderstood him. I bet he meant he was going _to_ shop. I have been distracted lately working on selections for my NYADA callback. It's probably inevitable that I miss something inconsequential like that from time to time."

"I'm not sure what that all means, but do you want me to call Kurt?" he asks.

"No, sweetie," she says, taking on the tone she always uses when something has gone over Finn's head. "I'll call him. He's probably wondering where I am anyway if we were supposed to go shopping together. I don't want to subject you to his wrath. Talk to you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Finn replies.

Rachel hangs up before Finn has finished his goodbye. Something is up with Kurt, and she's dying to know what it is.

From Rachel (3:27 p.m.)  
 _We need to talk._

From Kurt (3:28 p.m.)  
 _Is it an emergency?_

From Rachel (3:28 p.m.)  
 _Not sure._

From Kurt (3:30 p.m.)  
 _Fashion related? Personal? School?_

From Rachel (3:30 p.m.)  
 _Best friend related._

From Kurt (3:32 p.m.)  
 _I thought I was your best friend._

From Rachel (3:32 p.m.)  
 _You are._

From Kurt (3:33 p.m.)  
 _?_

From Rachel (3:34 p.m.)  
 _Lima Bean….20 minutes?_

From Kurt (3:35 p.m.)  
 _Give me 30._

* * *

Kurt pockets his phone and looks at Blaine.

"Something wrong?" Blaine asks.

"Not sure," Kurt replies. "Rachel says she needs to talk to me about something."

"Did she say what?"

"No, but…" Kurt's eyes go wide as he stops mid sentence. "Oh my god!"

"What?" Blaine asks.

"I told her I was working until 6," he says.

"So?"

" _So…_ I just told her I'd meet her for coffee in 30 minutes," he says, before looking down at his phone.

"Kurt, I'm not following here," Blaine says.

"Well, 30 minutes from now would be about two hours before my shift ends."

"Maybe she forgot," Blaine says, ever the optimist.

"Rachel _never_ forgets details like that. Never. One time when I was worried I had worn the same hat two Tuesdays in a row, she reassured me by recounting what I'd worn every Tuesday for a month down to the accessories. No, I think she knows I lied about working today," Kurt says, patting his pockets for his keys. When he can't find them, he reaches between the couch cushions and runs his hand under the edge along the floor. "Where the fuck are my keys?" he asks.

Kurt feels something tighten in his chest as the panic starts to build.

"By the door," Blaine says, calmly pointing toward the table by the door and leaning his cheek on his other hand, elbow propped on the back of the sofa. He looks relaxed and completely adorable like that, and Kurt really doesn't want to leave. He bends down and kisses Blaine's full, pouty mouth.

"Do you have to go?" Blaine asks, pouting even more.

"No moping," Kurt says, tapping a playful finger to Blaine's bottom lip. "I won't be gone long."

"I know," Blaine says. "It's just school starts again Monday and we have to go back to normal. I don't want to waste a single moment of the time we've got left before reality smacks us in the face. Besides…" he leans forward to take Kurt's hand in his, stroking his fingers over his knuckles. "I'm sort of getting used to practically living with you."

"Me too," Kurt says, smiling down at where their hands are intertwined. "It's been a great two weeks."

"It really has," Blaine says, golden eyes twinkling for a moment before he turns serious. "Do you think she knows…about us?"

Kurt rocks back onto his heels, pulling his hand away from Blaine. It's possible. Kurt thinks back over the last few days and the handful of brief conversations with Rachel. No, he'd been extra careful, making excuses about family obligations and that history paper, which he had actually finished before Christmas while playing footsy with Blaine. She may suspect _something_ out of the ordinary, but there's no way she knows the full truth.

"No," Kurt says. "But she's definitely suspicious."

Blaine nods knowingly. He's all too familiar with Rachel's persistence. She won't give up if she suspects Kurt is hiding something.

"What are you going to tell her?" Blaine asks.

"I'm not sure," Kurt says with a shrug. "I'll think of something."

* * *

When he gets to the Lima Bean, Kurt sees Rachel already sitting at a table near the door. She sees him right away and waves him over, but he wants a few more moments to gather his thoughts before he approaches her. So he gestures in the direction of the counter and mimes drinking. She nods and smiles at him. Kurt thinks maybe he shouldn't be worried. If she has any real dirt, she would be accosting him while he waits for his mocha.

His relief only lasts until he gets about five feet from Rachel.

"What's his name?" she asks.

Kurt sets his coffee cup on the small table and looks at her wide-eyed. He hasn't even sat down yet, but Rachel never was one for mincing words or avoiding tough conversations.

"His name?" Kurt asks, dropping into the seat in an uncharacteristically clumsy fashion.

"The guy you've been sneaking around with," Rachel replies smugly. "That's it, isn't it? You're having some secret, torrid love affair and hiding it. Like me and Jesse during sophomore year." She smiles. "You shouldn't be ashamed Kurt. Not if it's love."

"Rachel, I…"

"A _secret_ love affair, Kurt. It's just so dramatic. I can't believe you didn't tell me. I mean after you confessed your feelings for Mr. Anderson, I was worried you'd waste away pining over our teacher. But look at you. You're positively glowing."

"I am?" Kurt feels something burn brightly in his chest at that. He knows he's been smiling more lately. His dad had asked him about it at dinner earlier that week. And the truth is, he's wildly happy with Blaine. He's never felt so alive. So wanted. So loved.

Kurt feels a smile tugging at his mouth and can't resist its pull.

Rachel smiles and nods, taking Kurt's coy smile as confirmation. "So tell me about him."

"There's not much to tell," Kurt replies, fiddling with his coffee lid as his heart pounds wildly in his chest.

"Oh come on," Rachel says, playfully kicking her tiny foot against Kurt's boot under the table. "Tell me something. Like…where does he go to school? I assume he's not a student at McKinley."

She lifts her cup to her lips and raises an eyebrow in Kurt's direction.

"No, not a student at McKinley," Kurt answers truthfully.

"So where?"

"Dalton," Kurt replies. It's probably best sticking as close to the truth as he can.

"Oh, a private school boy," Rachel coos. "Is he cute?"

"Adorable," Kurt says with a sigh. He imagines Blaine's face as he'd kissed him goodbye not 15 minutes ago, and the feel of Blaine's tongue as it brushed his lips, teasing and offering an incentive to return later. "And sexy."

Rachel's laughter rings out brightly in the crowded coffee shop. "Well, I guess that means you've gotten over your crush on Mr. Anderson," she teases.

"I think it's safe to say my feelings have changed," Kurt says, staring down into his coffee. Of course, he'd gotten over his crush. He'd gotten over it the moment Blaine gave in to their attraction and had promptly fallen in love.

"How did you meet him?" she probes.

Kurt swallows so hard he nearly chokes on his coffee.

"Um, well," he says between coughs. "It was, um, after school."

"Ooh…I bet it was love at first sight! I remember when I first saw Finn…"

Kurt nods and lets Rachel speculate and ramble about Finn for a bit, occasionally nodding or making sounds of agreement. He's never been so grateful for her ability to have a conversation with herself in his life.

"Kurt, are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, Rachel," he says. "I guess I'm just distracted."

"Thinking about Mr. Wonderful?" she coos.

Kurt nods as his phone buzzes in his pocket.

"So, does Mr. Wonderful have a name?" Rachel asks as Kurt thumbs over his screen.

From Blaine (4:12 p.m.)  
 _How's it going?_

From Kurt (4:12 p.m.)  
 _It's going. I'll explain later._

From Blaine (4:13 p.m.)  
 _Coming back soon? I miss you._

From Kurt (4:13 p.m.)  
 _Leaving now._

"Uh, Rachel," Kurt says. "Can we finish this later? I have to go."

"Is something wrong?" she asks, looking concerned.

"No," he says. "I just need to go."

Rachel's disappointment is obvious, but Kurt really doesn't want to be interrogated further, and Blaine is waiting for him at home.

Home. That's an interesting thought.

* * *

Rachel looks at her friend, thoroughly distracted and completely in love. She's torn between bitter disappointment that he's abandoning her and elation that he's found someone.

"Any chance I could meet this mystery guy?" Rachel asks.

Something tenses in Kurt's face.

"Um, sure," he says, giving her a tight smile. "Eventually."

"I can't just let my best friend date _anyone_ ," she says. Not that Kurt needs her approval, but she does feel protective of him. She wants to make sure he's dating someone who treats him right.

"Yes, mom," Kurt teases, smiling a little more loosely as he taps her nose with his index finger. "Now, I've got to go."

"Bye, Kurt," she calls after her friend's retreating form.

She sits there alone for a while, swirling a wooden stirrer in her cup and wondering why Kurt was so elusive about his new love interest. It's not uncommon for Kurt to put up walls and keep things close to his heart, but he seemed to be genuinely happy. He usually likes to share good news. There must be something he doesn't want her to know. But Rachel can't even begin to guess what that might be.

She's so lost in her own thoughts she doesn't notice a tall, lanky boy approach. When he clears his throat loudly and she looks up, she doesn't recognize him right away, not without the blazer.

"Well, if it isn't Thumbelina," he drawls.

It's the nickname, rather than the face, that jogs her memory. Rachel stares wide-eyed for a moment, finding herself face to face with the gossip-mongering Warbler who said he saw Kurt make out with Mr. Anderson.

"Did you want something?" she asks, trying her best to channel Kurt's bitch face.

"Saw you with the twink," he says, gesturing toward the door with his head. "Is he still getting tail from the hot teacher?"

"There's nothing going on with Kurt and Mr. Anderson," she says, already annoyed with the conversation. "I'll have you know, Kurt has a boyfriend."

Sebastian tilts his head in inquiry, a slight smirk on his face.

"A boyfriend you say," he says, squinting his eyes. "Is he a real boy or did he just wish really, really hard until the blue fairy showed up?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. Is this guy for real? Why would Kurt make that up?

"He's real, Sebastian," Rachel says. "In fact, he goes to your school."

Sebastian's eyes go wide at that.

"Oh really?" he says. "And what is Mr. Perfect's name?"

"Well, I didn't get his name," Rachel says. "Kurt got interrupted, but he said he goes to Dalton, and I'm sure he's wonderful."

"Right," Sebastian says. And Rachel really wants to smack the smirk off his pointy little face.

She stands up, planning to leave when Sebastian grabs her arm. She looks down at the sudden contact and then looks back at him, unsure if he'd really harm her or not. The adrenalin coursing through her makes her lips quiver as she exhales. She squares her shoulders in an attempt to hide her fear.

"Listen, Smurfette," he says, leaning down to hover over her. "Back out of nationals or I'm going to report them to the school district and you'll have to forfeit anyway because your teacher will be fired."

Rachel is certain she can hear her own heart beat in her ears as her pulse begins to race. It doesn't matter what this obnoxious spoiled brat says or does, she will not let him see her terror.

"Life isn't a James Bond movie, Sebastian," she says, jerking her arm away. He lets it go. "The malicious villain routine is really tired. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a busy day ahead of me."

"I wouldn't cross me if I were you," he says to her retreating form. "I'm not joking around."

"You don't have any proof," she says twirling around.

"I don't need any," he says, looking entirely too smug for Rachel's liking and stepping back into her personal space. "With the way the district's been cracking down on inappropriate friendships, all it takes is a _whisper_." He lowers his voice on the last word and flicks at an imaginary bit of lint on Rachel's coat. "Don't test me."

Rachel feels something hot and heavy settle in her chest and nearly drops her coffee.

"I'll be in touch," he says, and walks away leaving her standing in the middle of the Lima Bean feeling like the floor has just dropped out of the room.

* * *

"Blaine?" Kurt calls out as he enters Blaine's apartment.

"In the bedroom," Blaine replies. "How'd it go?" he asks as he rounds the corner into the living room.

"Well, the good news is she doesn't know about us," Kurt says, toeing off his shoes and dropping his keys on the table by the door.

"Is there bad news?" Blaine asks.

Kurt removes his coat and scarf and hangs them by the door. He turns to face Blaine, not sure how he will react.

"Well, she kind of guessed that I'm seeing someone," he says.

"So what did you tell her?" Blaine asks. He looks curious, but not angry or particularly worried. Kurt breathes deeply in relief. Blaine trusts him. He doesn't need to worry.

"That I have a gorgeous, sexy, and completely adorable boyfriend," Kurt says, walking over to Blaine and wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist.

"Does he have a name?" Blaine asks, tilting his head forward to kiss Kurt lightly.

Kurt loves that they can have serious conversations and tease each other at the same time. There's something so intimate about it, like there's extra meaning in every word and they inherently know what the other is thinking and feeling.

"Not yet."

"What are you going to tell her?" he asks, pulling back to look at Kurt.

"Don't know. I kind of implied that you go to Dalton, so it needs to be something fairly generic in case she decides to check it out."

"Do you think she'd do that?"

Kurt tilts his head to the side and raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah, it's Rachel," Blaine says. "Of course she would. Okay, so he needs a name like Mike or Chris…Justin?"

Kurt shakes his head.

"I don't think I could date a Justin. And Mike would be too confusing, given that there's a Mike in glee," Kurt says, looking thoughtful. "What about your college boyfriend? We could use his name."

"Mark?" Blaine asks, looking confused. "Why him?"

"Well, I figure it would be easier to remember, and it's fairly common."

"Fair point."

Kurt takes out his phone and sends Rachel a text.

From Kurt (5:14 p.m.)  
 _His name is Mark._

From Rachel (5:14 p.m.)  
 _:D_

From Rachel (5:15 p.m.) _  
Kurt and Mark, sitting in a tree…._

From Kurt (5:15 p.m.)  
 _We'll talk tomorrow Rachel._

From Rachel (5:15 p.m.)  
 _Are you with Mark now? ;)_

From Kurt (5:16 p.m.  
 _Goodbye Rachel_

From Rachel (5:16 p.m.)  
 _Spoil sport :(_

Kurt rolls his eyes at his phone and pockets it. "At least she bought it," he says. "I'll probably have to do more damage control tomorrow, but I think we're in the clear."

"Good," Blaine says, stepping closer to Kurt.

"So, Mark," Kurt says, grinning at Blaine. "What do you say we get to know one another better?"

Blaine laughs and pulls Kurt toward him by his belt loops. "As long as you don't call me Mark," he says scrunching his nose. "Too creepy."

"Whatever you say, _Mr. Anderson_ ," he says, nipping at Blaine's lips. Kurt's discovered that a well-timed use of the formality can earn the most delicious reactions, and he uses it to his advantage more than is actually necessary. It works like a charm this time.

Blaine's hand grips the hair at the nape of Kurt's neck and pulls slightly. Kurt lets out a high-pitched moan as his head falls back. Blaine's mouth is on the tender skin near his ear instantly, tongue darting out to tickle the sensitive flesh, teeth grazing tendons as he goes. Kurt feels a rush of arousal at the sensation of Blaine's warm mouth worshipping over his skin.

When his hips stutter forward, Blaine's hardening cock brushes against his thigh, and he's instantly drunk with the sheer want of it. He rolls his hips again and Blaine moans.

"I want to do something for you," Blaine says, gasping between words. "Will you let me?"

Blaine's eyes are dark, his tone seductive. Kurt takes a ragged breath and flicks his tongue out to moisten his lips. He bites down sharply on his bottom lip and narrows his eyes at Blaine. "What did you have in mind?" he asks.

"Do you trust me?" Blaine asks.

"Always," Kurt says without hesitation.

"Okay," Blaine says, eyes wide as he nods. "If I do anything you don't like, you just say the word, and I'll stop, okay?"

Kurt is unable to form a coherent response, unsure of what Blaine has in mind, so he just nods. Blaine kisses the tip of his nose, and Kurt almost laughs at the innocence of it, especially compared to the way they had been kissing only moments before. But the thought only half forms before he realizes that Blaine's fingers are working his fly open, trailing down the zipper slowly.

"Blaine?" he murmurs.

Blaine's fingers still and his eyes are on Kurt's in an instant. "Is this okay?" he asks.

"Um…yes?" Kurt doesn't mean for it to come out sounding like a question, but his brain doesn't seem to be working properly anymore, and it's all he can manage.

Blaine's hands are cradling his face and bright, amber eyes are boring through him.

"Remember when I said we don't have to do anything you don't want to? That still applies."

"No, it's good," Kurt says. "Just caught me by surprise. I'm fine."

Blaine smiles. A hint of mischief sparkles in his eyes.

"Good," he says. "Because I've been fantasizing about doing this to you for weeks now, and I don't think I can wait any longer."

"Do what?" Kurt says.

"This," Blaine says, dropping to his knees in front of Kurt and tugging his pants down. He glances up at Kurt briefly, eyes asking permission. Kurt drags his hand through Blaine's curls, giving his consent without saying a word.

Blaine smiles at him, a playful gleam in his eyes, and Kurt is lost to the moment. He knows he will let Blaine do whatever he wants. He knows it down to his bones. Whatever this man wants, Kurt will give him, freely and completely. And, oh god, does he want it.

Blaine's mouth is trailing searing kisses down his abdomen, warm fingertips grazing the waistband of his underwear. Every touch feels like fire, leaving Kurt's skin heated and oversensitive in its wake.

For a moment, Kurt feels as if he can't get a full breath, but he really can't be bothered to care because the most beautiful man he's ever seen is on his knees in front of him. And he's going to…oh god.

Kurt's brain won't let him finish the thought because all the blood in his body has rushed to the one area where Blaine is now focusing all of his attention. He palms Kurt's cock through his tight, grey briefs, pulling a moan from somewhere deep in Kurt's chest. His hips jerk forward on instinct, almost hitting Blaine on the chin.

"Sorry," he breathes out.

"You're fine, Kurt. Relax," Blaine says, trailing soothing hands down his back and resting them just above the curve of his ass.

Kurt exhales long and slow. He looks down at Blaine, who grips Kurt's ass firmly and smiles up at him as he squeezes. Blaine's dark eyelashes seem even longer and fuller at this angle, a mix of innocence and seduction that Kurt finds intoxicating.

"God, you're gorgeous," he says, only half realizing that he's uttered the words out loud.

"No, Kurt," Blaine insists, working Kurt's briefs down over his fully erect cock as he speaks. "You have me beat by a mile. I promise." Then he looks up at Kurt and holds eye contact with him as he takes Kurt into his mouth, engulfing him in warmth. The intensity of the gaze distracts Kurt for a split second until he gasps at the feeling of Blaine's mouth, wet and perfect, working him over.

Blaine simply watches Kurt as he slides along his entire length, sucking and dragging his tongue as he goes. Kurt's eyes roll back in his head for a second while he allows himself to get lost in the sensation.

"Oh my god, Blaine," he gasps. "That is the most amazing…"

He breaks off mid sentence when he feels Blaine's tongue flick the underside of the head. The sensation of everything is so heightened, down to the feeling of Blaine's breath ghosting over his bare skin every time he takes Kurt in fully, that he's no longer capable of forming words.

Blaine pulls off for a moment. Under any other circumstance, Kurt might be embarrassed at the low whine that escapes his throat.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this," Blaine says, continuing to stroke Kurt with his hand. "How much I want to do everything with you."

Kurt opens his mouth to respond, but the words escape him when he feels Blaine's mouth close around him again. Blaine's left hand rests on the small of Kurt's back, and Kurt is vaguely aware that he can't feel Blaine's right hand anywhere on him. He glances down to try to see where his hand has gone, but gets distracted at the sight of Blaine's full lips stretched around his erection. He hears a zipper and can see Blaine's elbow out of the corner of his eye, and it occurs to Kurt that Blaine is working himself over while sucking his cock and that's all it takes.

"I can't…oh god, Blaine, I'm …"

Kurt expects Blaine to pull off, but instead he sucks harder and moves faster until Kurt is writhing and swaying on his feet. When his orgasm hits, it feels like a wave crashing over him. It takes everything he has to remain upright as Blaine's grip tightens on his back and Kurt shudders as he comes. Kurt leans forward into Blaine and tries to catch his breath.

Blaine's head is resting on Kurt's thigh and his breath tickles Kurt's skin as it becomes more rapid and irregular. Kurt is vaguely aware that Blaine is stroking himself, but in his blissed-out state, can't bring himself to move. Blaine's body suddenly goes rigid and Kurt hears a muffled "fuck" as Blaine's body tremors against his. When the movement stops, Kurt bends his knees and falls to the floor beside Blaine.

"That was … I mean … wow," Kurt says.

"Only a wow?" Blaine replies, still slightly out of breath.

"You expect me to form complete sentences after that?" Kurt asks.

"So it was good?"

"There are no words," Kurt says, smiling. He leans in to kiss Blaine's red, swollen lips. The taste is different and he belatedly realizes it's his own come he's tasting. He wonders if he should be grossed out, but then Blaine's tongue swipes across his and the thought is erased. Nothing about this could be wrong.

Kurt nuzzles his face into Blaine's neck and they just lean against each other for a moment, holding the other one up with their own body weight. When their breathing calms and Kurt feels like he can stand, Blaine leads them to the bathroom to clean up.

* * *

School starts again Monday, and Blaine is on edge. The confrontation with Sue on Christmas Eve is still weighing heavily on his mind, even though nothing has yet come of it. He hasn't even told Kurt because he doesn't want to worry him. But he can't help that he feels like everyone's eyes are on him even when they're not. He purposefully avoids Kurt's gaze during first period as they'd planned, but it does little to calm his nerves.

As the days wear on, Blaine gets more and more paranoid. Every closed-door conversation is about him; every student whispering in class is talking about Kurt. Except that they're not.

For every time Blaine feels his heart race when he thinks he's finally found out, there's a logical explanation. Eventually he's able to smile at Kurt during class without feeling like everyone's judging him. He can even watch Kurt perform in glee without worrying that they all know he spent the weekend mapping out Kurt's freckles with his tongue.

It gets so comfortable that by the end of January, he's almost completely forgotten about Sue and he's feeling relaxed. He and Kurt have found a routine: coffee after school on Tuesdays, Friday nights at Blaine's, Saturdays and Sundays spent like a real couple, domestic and quiet, sometimes heading to Columbus whenever they can sneak away for a date. It's perfect.

And then the rumors start.

At first it's a look, then it's a comment under someone's breath. Next it's a disapproving shake of someone's head. By the time Blaine hears the rumor he knows is about him and Kurt, no one is certain where they heard it or what teacher and student it's about.

"I heard it's a freshman and she's actually living with him," one of the history teachers says as he walks past Blaine, Coach Bieste, and Miss Holiday in the teachers' lounge.

"I heard it's a junior and he's trading sexual favors for better grades," Holly calls after the unidentified history teacher. Jim Harper, Hooper, Horner….Blaine can't remember.

Blaine looks at Holly with narrowed eyes. "Why would you say that?"

"What?" she says, spearing a piece of lettuce with her fork. "If we're spreading rumors, I might as well make it a good one."

"Or we could just mind our own bees wax," Coach Bieste says.

"I'm with Shannon," Blaine says, eager to change the subject. "I don't understand this obsession with this rumor anyway. It's not likely any of it's true."

"Well, after what happened with Schuester, everyone's kind of on edge," Shannon says.

"Yeah, if you're the one spreading the rumor, probably means it's not about you," Holly adds.

"I just don't like gossiping," Blaine says. "Someone always gets hurt."

They all glance over at Miss Pillsbury, sitting by herself just like she has every day since Will had gotten fired. The rumors about Schue had hit her hardest of all. They had been talking about getting married when rumors started circulating about Will and one of the Cheerios. Then there was talk about a girl in his fourth period Spanish class. When Emma broke up with him two months later, the rumors kept getting worse until the pressure from the school board forced Figgins to let him go.

Emma gathers up the remains of her mostly uneaten lunch and walks out of the room, her shoulders sagging, the bright fuchsia of her sweater a sharp contrast to her dejected posture.

It's that stupid sweater that forces Blaine to make a conscious choice not to tell Kurt about the rumors. He never wants to see Kurt walking around McKinley like that if he can help it. They just need to be more careful.

* * *

Kurt watches from the doorway to the choir room as Blaine gathers up sheet music and stacks chairs. It's a Wednesday in late February, and glee rehearsal has just finished. They'd been really careful since school started back up in January. So Kurt never hangs back after class. They never have private conversations at school unless it's related to Shakespeare or glee. They have rules now.

So Kurt had left with everyone else when rehearsal ended, just like he does every day. But today, he excused himself to retrieve his scarf … that he'd conveniently left on the back of his chair. A thick, oatmeal-colored, cable-knit scarf that Blaine is currently running his fingers over reverently.

Blaine picks it up and holds it to his face, inhaling deeply.

"You know, if you were planning on tracking me by scent, you don't have to go very far," he says.

Blaine doesn't turn toward him or open his eyes. He just smiles. "I can't help it. I love the way you smell," he says quietly.

"Ditto."

"You left it on purpose, didn't you?" Blaine says, trying to sound stern, but there's a hint of flirtation in his voice.

"Maybe," Kurt replies, making his way across the room slowly.

"Kurt," Blaine says, his voice dropping low. "You can't do things like that."

"Says the man smelling my scarf," Kurt says, stepping into Blaine's personal space.

"You know what I mean," he says, stepping back. "We shouldn't be alone together."

"No one's here," Kurt says, pouting a little. "I checked."

Blaine inhales sharply and closes his eyes. "Kurt."

"Just for a minute," Kurt says, voice low and seductive. He places a hand on Blaine's chest next to his loosened tie and trails his fingers along a seam. He grazes the edge of the striped silk tie and watches Blaine's lips. "I just don't think I can wait until Friday to kiss you."

"You have absolutely no will power," Blaine whispers. But his eyes betray him as they dart to Kurt's lips.

"Neither do you," Kurt says, twining his fingers in Blaine's striped tie and turning his wrist. He tugs gently, forcing Blaine forward. When their lips meet, Kurt hears a soft grunt from the back of Blaine's throat. It's quite possibly the most erotic moment in his entire life.

Kurt opens his mouth to suck on Blaine's bottom lip and he feels Blaine's hands come up to rest on his hips. Blaine's still gripping the scarf in his left hand, and Kurt feels it brush against his thigh. The sensation feels heightened in the quiet room and he suddenly has the urge to take Blaine somewhere with a lock on the door. He hungrily works his tongue into Blaine's mouth.

"I want you so bad," Kurt says between kisses.

"Yeah?" Blaine says, gasping. His eyes are wide and burning. "We could maybe go…"

"Kurt!" a voice calls out from the hallway.

Blaine pulls back from Kurt abruptly as Tina bounces through the door.

"There you are," she says glancing back and forth between them. "Are we going for coffee, or…?"

"Yeah. Sure." He turns to Blaine, noticing his tie is crooked. _Shit_. "Thanks for finding my scarf, Mr. Anderson," Kurt says, taking it from Blaine's hands.

"No problem, Kurt. See you tomorrow." Blaine's voice barely wavers, but it's more gravely than normal.

Kurt hopes it's not enough to raise Tina's suspicions as he follows her out of the choir room. He turns back at the doorway and meets Blaine's gaze. He looks like he's itching to tell Kurt, "I told you so." So Kurt mouths, "I know…I'll call you later," and rushes to catch up to Tina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this keeps growing. I swear I have an outline that I'm sticking to. It's just sometimes these boys are wordy. Also, the inspiration for the tie-pulling kiss came from this: http://canarianwrites.tumblr.com/post/30467949671/klaineitupanotch-so-guess-what-a-long-time-ago


	14. Chapter 14

The near misses continue despite Blaine's insistence that he and Kurt keep their distance when they're not at his apartment. For the most part Blaine manages to avoid Kurt outside of class, but McKinley is only so big, and every now and again, they can't help running into each other at school.

One afternoon, just before sixth period, Blaine finds himself in a bathroom he rarely uses near the science wing. He'd had two extra cups of coffee that morning, so in addition to being jittery, his whole routine is off. He walks through the door, whistling to himself, and stops short when he sees Kurt, looking absolutely stunning in a corset-backed vest and Alexander McQueen pants and fixing his hair at the mirror. Blaine's about to say something to him when he notices two other students at the urinals. He makes his way across the room in silence.

He can feel Kurt's eyes on him and tries not to think about it as he pees. It's too much. His shoulders relax a little when, one-by-one, the other two boys head to the sinks. Soon he hears the taps running, towels being pulled from the dispensers. And then they're gone. He and Kurt are alone.

Kurt is still fixing his hair, or at least pretending to, and Blaine heads to the sinks to wash his hands. He takes the one to Kurt's left and glances over to see him trying to act nonchalant. Blaine smiles to himself as he soaps up his hands.

"Hi," Kurt says finally, grinning at Blaine's reflection in the mirror.

"Hey," Blaine replies, shaking the water from his hands. He leans to his left to reach for a towel and he stumbles when two warm hands are wrapped around him from behind.

"Kurt, not here," he says going stiff in his boyfriend's arms.

"I was just saying hello," Kurt says, his voice low and his breath ghosting across Blaine's ear. He shivers a little at the sensation and closes his eyes, leaning into Kurt's touch.

"You know we can't," he says, barely audible.

"Just for a second," Kurt pleads, tongue darting out to lick Blaine's ear.

"A nanosecond." Blaine sighs as he lets himself get lost in strong arms as Kurt squeezes him tighter, lips trailing along Blaine's neck near his collar.

A loud bang and the door swinging open startles them both out of the embrace, and Blaine fumbles with his hands as he tries to pull another towel from the dispenser.

"I just need to piss, man," Puck says as he saunters into the bathroom, followed closely by Finn. He makes his way to the urinals without acknowledging Kurt or Blaine.

"Hey Mr. A," Finn says, beaming. "Hey Kurt." He follows Puck to the far wall.

When their backs are to him, Blaine gives Kurt a harsh glare, as he finishes drying his hands and leaves the bathroom. They can't keep getting almost caught like that.

"See you boys at rehearsal," he calls out as he leaves.

* * *

The next time they're almost caught it's at the Lima Bean during their regularly scheduled Tuesday coffee, which wouldn't be problematic except Blaine has whipped cream on his nose. And Kurt can't resist wiping it off.

"You've got something on your…" Kurt trails off, gesturing to his face.

Blaine's tongue darts out to lick his lips, but he misses the spot by a mile. It sends Kurt into a fit of giggles.

"Here, let me," he says, reaching across the table to wipe at the spot with his index finger. He hooks it and swipes down the bridge of Blaine's nose. Blaine's eyes follow him, entranced, as Kurt brings his finger nearer to his lips. Kurt stops short when he hears a familiar voice.

"Hey Kurt," Mercedes says in a slow, teasing drawl.

Kurt tries desperately to wipe his finger on his napkin, but he fumbles and nearly spills his coffee. He hears Blaine snort back a laugh as he tries to hide his smirk behind his hand.

"Mercedes," Kurt says, more friendly and excited than is necessary. "And Sam! What brings you two out for caffeine on such a gloomy day?" He gestures outside to the swirling gray, late-season stormy mess that has settled in over Lima.

"Oh we're just trying to keep warm," Mercedes replies. "Looks like you and Mr. Anderson had the same idea." And she actually winks. Kurt feels his face flame hot at her words, and curses his fair skin because he knows it will show.

Mercedes is still under the impression that Kurt is crushing on Blaine. After revealing his love affair with "Mark" to Rachel, Kurt had begged her not to tell. And so far, it seems, she's kept up her end of the bargain.

"Hey, Mr. A," Sam says, sounding a bit awkward. "Mercedes and I were just going to grab some coffee. We didn't mean to interrupt."

Blaine smiles the warm way he does at all of his students. Kurt recognizes the "Mr. Anderson" mask now because he's seen Blaine's genuine smiles. This one is different. It's reserved, polite, respectful. There's none of the crinkle around his eyes or the way the feeling takes over his whole body when he really means it. No, he saves those smiles for Kurt these days.

"Oh don't worry about it," Blaine says, waving a dismissive hand. "I was grading, and then Kurt joined me. We were just discussing our set list for nationals. You two should join us. The more ideas the better."

Blaine shoots off their practiced cover story like a pro, even gesturing to his leather bag resting by his chair— with actual papers to grade shoved inside, just in case. He smiles again after he finishes speaking. Kurt follows his lead and gives Mercedes a tight smile.

"Yes, join us," he says. "I've been trying to convince Mr. Anderson that we should do a Whitney Houston tribute, but he says it's too risky. I told him it's because he hasn't heard you sing 'I Will Always Love You.' "

"He's right, Mr. A," Sam says. "It made me cry. _Better_ than Whitney."

"Oh stop," Mercedes says, swatting playfully at Sam's arm.

"It's true," he says with a shrug.

"I'm sure it is," Blaine replies, smiling at Mercedes and then at Kurt. "But the risk is in sticking with just one artist. We can't box ourselves in like that. We need to play to our strengths — all our strengths. Ballads are great, but they don't show off the group's talents."

"I wish Mr. Schue would have thought like that," Mercedes said. "The last two years would have been a lot less tense without suffering through the Rachel Berry Show every day."

Kurt has to hide a laugh behind his hand because she's right. Even though Rachel is his best friend, her ambition, combined with Mr. Schue's blatant love affair with Rachel's voice and Finn's bumbling good guy-ness, made for a lot of one-sided arguments about who was getting solos. Kurt certainly would have never been featured in a competition performance during Will Schuester's reign.

Blaine maintains his composure, though.

"Well, if you'd like a shot at a solo, Mercedes, I hope you'll audition. You too, Sam."

"Oh you best believe I will," Mercedes says. She infuses her words with her trademark sass, but Kurt knows she's over-exaggerating to be funny. Sam laughs at the same time Kurt does. It suddenly occurs to Kurt how happy he is that they seem to fit together so well. Mercedes looks happy.

She turns to Sam. "Come on, boo. I need to caffeine up so we can get back to studying. Nice to see you, Mr. A…Kurt." She smirks at him before waving goodbye to Kurt and leading Sam to the counter.

"That was a close call," Kurt mutters once they're a safe distance away.

"Too close," Blaine says, something darkening his features. It reminds Kurt of the paranoia he'd felt those first few days back at school after Winter break.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, we just need to be more careful," Blaine replies. "First Tina, then Finn and Puck. Now this." He sighs. "It's just not good for us to be seen together so much."

"Okay, first of all, Tina knew I was getting my scarf. Second, Finn and Puck? You had to pee; I was fixing my hair. Hardly cause for alarm. And this," he says gesturing around the coffee shop, "is perfectly normal. For all anyone else knows or cares, we're just talking about glee. In fact, we have witnesses to that fact, one of whom will tell the entire glee club by tomorrow afternoon. We're safe."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"I usually am," Kurt replies, miming flipping his hair back with an air of fake confidence that makes Blaine laugh.

Kurt smiles.

"I do love making you laugh," he says.

"Kurt."

"What?" he says, taking a sip of his coffee. "It's sexy."

"Kurt stop it," Blaine says, his eyes darting around the coffee shop like the whole room has heard what Kurt just said. But when his eyes fall back on Kurt there's only affection there. "If you keep talking like that, I'm going to have to shut you up."

Kurt smirks at him. "Ooh, do tell," he says, sitting up taller in his seat. "I like where this is going."

"Later," Blaine says, leaning in and lowering his voice. "My place?"

"I'll call my dad and tell him I'll be late for dinner."

Neither of them sees Mercedes watching them from behind a travel mug display.

* * *

"Kurt, don't you think it's a little odd that we've never met Mark?" Rachel asks one day toward the end of glee rehearsal while they're marking some choreography.

"Um, well...he's really busy, Rachel," Kurt says. "And he lives in Westerville. You know that."

They've been over this a million times. At least it feels that way. Rachel's persistent questions about the elusive Mark had begun the first day back at school and had continued every day since. Kurt dodges when he can, but mostly gives her just enough information to keep her satisfied, but not enough detail to give up his ruse.

"Yes, I do. You've made that abundantly clear over the last month and a half," she says. "But I'm your best friend, and I'm starting to wonder if he even exists."

Kurt snaps his head to glare at her.

"Why would I make something like that up?" Kurt says. "Do you really think I'm that desperate?"

"No, Kurt…no. Nothing like that. It's just…"

"What?"

"Kurt, okay," she says, lowering her voice so only Kurt can hear her. The rest of the group is focused on Mike trying to teach Sam and Finn some choreography. "I'm going to tell you something that I probably should have told you weeks ago, but I didn't' want you to worry, and I thought I could handle it if we all could just meet Mark. But it's been weeks, Kurt…weeks. And I'm really worried Sebastian is going to say something to Figgins or the school board, and I don't want your name dragged through the mud."

She's on the verge of tears by this point, but Kurt has no idea what she's talking about.

"Wait…Rachel, slow down," he says. "Sebastian? The school board? I don't follow."

"Shit," she says, and then slaps her hand over her mouth. Rachel never swears. This must be serious.

"Want to go somewhere quieter?" Kurt asks looking around to get Blaine's attention. When he makes eye contact, he gestures to Rachel and then the hallway. Blaine nods. It's times like this it really helps to be dating the teacher.

Kurt pulls an arm around Rachel's shoulders and ushers her into the hallway. They instinctively head for the auditorium; it's a place they both feel comfortable. When they're seated side-by-side at the piano on the stage, Kurt speaks.

"Okay, now do you want to tell me what's got you so worked up?"

He smiles at her encouragingly, brushing her hair back off her shoulder, but Rachel still looks like she's about to cry.

"Oh, Kurt," she sobs. "We're going to have to drop out of nationals."

"What? Why?" he asks, completely lost. Rachel's not making any sense.

Rachel stares at her hands and picks at her nails while she searches for words. Finally, she takes a deep breath.

"Remember when I told you at regionals about that Warbler spreading lies about you and Mr. Anderson?" she asks.

Kurt nods slowly.

"Well, I ran into him that Saturday after we had coffee and you told me about Mark."

"So?" Kurt asks, still not quite following.

"So," she says, sighing heavily and dropping her hands to her lap. "He threatened to tell the school board about what he saw unless we drop out of nationals."

"He what?" Kurt feels like his blood has gone cold.

"And I thought I could come up with something to keep him off our backs, so I told him about you and Mark…"

"You what?!" he shouts, reeling back so sharply he nearly falls off the piano bench.

"Well, I thought if he knew you had a boyfriend he'd know it was all a lie and he'd leave me alone, but he didn't believe me and he said he'd tell anyway." She pauses to take in a ragged breath. "So now we've got to drop out of nationals…otherwise, he'll get Mr. Anderson fired, and we'll still be disqualified."

"Oh god," Kurt says. This is bad. Very, very bad. He needs to tell Blaine, but Rachel is still talking and she doesn't know how bad this all is. He needs to get her off his back. He needs to tell her…something.

"It's true," he says, the words out before he can think.

"What?"

"It's true," he repeats. "All of it. The making out…Mr. Anderson….me. Sebastian wasn't lying. He really did see us at regionals."

"Kurt?" Rachel's eyes are wide in disbelief. "But no…you said. What about Mark?"

"I made him up," Kurt says. "It was Blaine's idea."

"Blaine?"

"Mr. Anderson…whatever," Kurt says, waving his hand dismissively.

"I don't know what to say," Rachel says, standing up and slowly backing away from Kurt.

"Rachel, please…"

"I can't believe…" she stops mid sentence and her expression changes. She looks hurt. "How long?"

Kurt looks down at his hands. No matter how much he knows he had to keep it a secret, he knows Rachel is hurt that he didn't trust her. Might as well come clean now.

"We've only been officially together since the start of winter break, but we'd been dancing around it for months. Our first kiss was right after sectionals. But it was completely one-sided; he didn't want to act on his feelings."

Rachel's brown eyes are wide, and her smile is more like a grimace.

"Since sectionals?" she asks, looking more stunned by the moment.

"Not exactly," Kurt says. "Blaine wanted to keep his distance. So we did. And it worked for a while, but eventually we just couldn't stay apart anymore. We're being really careful now."

" _Now_?" she says, eyes wide. "So what Sebastian said about regionals…is that true?"

"Yes, we kissed back stage….before we performed. We ran into you right after," Kurt says, not even really looking at Rachel as he rambles. "God that was awkward."

"Oh my god."

"Rachel…"

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," she says, interrupting.

Kurt jumps to his feet.

"I couldn't," he insists. "Do you know what it would mean for Blaine if anyone found out?"

"But I'm your best friend." Her pout is almost comical. Kurt doesn't laugh, though. He knows how hurt she is.

"We couldn't risk it," he says, knowing it's not enough of any explanation, but hoping Rachel accepts it. He figures full-disclosure is the best policy at this point.

"He makes me happy, Rachel. Please, you can't tell anyone. Promise me you won't."

"Kurt, I…"

She stops mid sentence and turns to face off stage. Kurt's gaze follows hers to see Blaine standing in the back of the auditorium. How long had he been there?

"There you two are," Blaine calls out. His tone is casual. Maybe he hadn't heard. "We need to run through the mash-up again. Come on." He gestures for them to leave the stage. Rachel moves first.

She doesn't make eye contact with either of them as she heads out of the auditorium. Kurt tries to catch up to her, but is stopped by Blaine's hand on his arm.

"What's going on?" he asks.

Kurt meets Blaine's eyes, and fights the urge to collapse into his boyfriend's arms.

"She knows."

Blaine's face falls as his hand drops from Kurt's arm. He sways on his feet and grabs the back of a seat for support.

* * *

"How did she find out?" Blaine asks, wondering why Kurt doesn't seem to be as worried as he is. Worried is an understatement, actually. Blaine feels like the floor has disappeared and he's hanging on to the back of an auditorium seat like it's a life preserver. Maybe it is.

Kurt looks scared, pulling in on himself, like he's scared of Blaine's reaction. When he speaks it's barely above a whisper.

"I told her."

"What?" Blaine asks, unsure for a second that he heard correctly. He thinks Kurt just said he told Rachel about them, but that can't be because Kurt promised he wouldn't tell anyone. Not even Rachel. He starts to say so, but Kurt is speaking again.

"That stupid Warbler," Kurt says.

"What?" Blaine knows he's being repetitive, but it's the only word he can make come out of his stupid, student-kissing mouth.

"The one from regionals," Kurt continues. "He threatened to tell the school board about us unless New Directions drops out of nationals."

"What does that have to do with you telling Rachel about us?"

Kurt swallows; it's audible and heavy.

"She wanted to meet 'Mark.' " Kurt uses the air quotes and laughs. "She actually thought if she could meet him, if others saw me with him, that would stop any rumors."

"Rumors don't work like that," Blaine mumbles. Suddenly every fear he's had about the talk at McKinley hits him like a slushy to the face. The rumors have already started. And they're about him. He drops onto the step he's standing on, dropping his head in his hands.

"It just came out," Kurt says, his voice pitching higher. He drops to his knees at Blaine's side, trying to catch his gaze. "She won't say anything."

Blaine laughs.

"She won't," Kurt says, but even Blaine can tell he doesn't believe it.

"What am I going to do?" Blaine says. The question is rhetorical, but Kurt answers it anyway.

"I need to go talk to her. I can make her understand." Kurt leans forward into Blaine's line of sight. "Please. I'll make this right," he says.

Blaine feels Kurt's hand on his shoulder. Long, elegant fingers are rubbing tense muscles, but it doesn't have the desired effect. Blaine only feels _more_ tense.

"We should get back to rehearsal," Blaine says, standing and brushing off his pants. He doesn't acknowledge Kurt's gesture or the whimper that escapes him when Blaine brushes his hand away. He glances down to see Kurt's eyes have begun to tear up, but he doesn't attempt to soothe him. He just walks away.

_Coward._

He returns to the choir room and it's almost surreal because the atmosphere hasn't changed from when he left to find Rachel and Kurt. Brittany and Mike are running through the choreography with the rest of the group; everyone is laughing as they try to keep up. Only Rachel's expression mirrors what Blaine is feeling. She looks shocked and confused but determined to get through rehearsal.

When Kurt joins them two minutes later, Blaine can't make eye contact. Instead, he puts on his best show face and calls out "From the top!"

For the remainder of rehearsal, Rachel ignores Blaine except to acknowledge his instructions. She leaves without talking to him or Kurt.

But then again, _Blaine_ leaves without talking to Kurt. He's not proud of it, but he can't face him right now. It's not that he's angry, not really. He's just scared. Scared of losing his job, yes, but even more scared of losing Kurt.

Blaine drives around Lima for close to an hour before pulling over into a strip mall parking lot to call Wes.

"Blaine Warbler, to what do I owe this honor?"

"I think I screwed up," Blaine says, forgoing the usual pleasantries in favor of cutting to the chase.

"You mean more than just dating one of your students?" Wes teases.

Blaine fights back tears, trying to keep the shuddering out of his voice. He exhales and he knows it sounds ragged and choked.

"Oh shit, man," Wes says. "You're really not okay. Did something happen?"

"Another student knows," he says.

"About you and Kurt?"

"We're fucking screwed, Wes."

Wes is quiet for a second. He's probably thinking, weighing the options like he always does. Blaine's mind flashes back to a younger Wes, holding a gavel and presiding over the Warblers council as they debated whether they should perform a Queen medley or Rio by Duran Duran for sectionals.

"Friend or foe?" he says finally.

"What?"

"This student," he says. "Friend…or foe?"

"Mostly friend," Blaine says, thinking of how Rachel had been quiet the rest of rehearsal. "She's actually Kurt's best friend, but she's kind of a loose canon sometimes."

"Can you reason with her?"

Blaine considers that for a moment. Rachel is Kurt's friend, but she's also ambitious. If she thinks his and Kurt's relationship could get in the way of New Directions winning nationals, she might sell them out. She's also 18 and human, and could just as easily let something slip by accident. Blaine knows she wouldn't want to hurt anyone, though, not intentionally anyway. Rachel Berry is a lot of things — ambitious, selfish, intense — but she's not a cruel person.

"Probably," he says. "Kurt can, anyway."

"Then stop panicking and take care of it," Wes says. He pauses. Blaine can hear him take in a slow, deep breath. "And worst-case scenario, you lose your job and you can stop all this sneaking around. I mean, it's not ideal, but it's not like you'll go to jail."

Blaine almost laughs at the practicality of Wes' statement. Blaine knows his friend still isn't too keen on him dating Kurt, but he'd long ago given up on trying to talk Blaine out of it. Now he's just trying his best to be supportive.

"True. You always know how to talk a guy off a ledge. Thanks, Wes."

"Hey, what are Warblers for?" Wes replies.

Blaine laughs and says his goodbyes. He feels lighter somehow. Now he just needs to talk to Kurt.

From Blaine (5:57 p.m.)  
 _I'm sorry I ran off. Can we talk?_

From Blaine (6:07 p.m.)  
 _Please don't be angry... I'm not._

It's starting to get dark, and Blaine doesn't want to camp out in a parking lot waiting for Kurt to call. He sends another text and then heads home.

From Blaine (6:12 p.m.)  
 _OK then. I'm headed home. Come by or call later if you can._

When Blaine gets home, he unlocks his door and drops his keys on the table. He toes off his shoes and hangs up his coat, but he doesn't turn the lights on. Blaine walks to the kitchen, opens the fridge and pulls out a beer. He pops the cap off the bottle and takes a long pull, throwing the cap in the sink.

"I'm sorry too."

Blaine jumps at the sound, sloshing beer down his front and almost dropping the bottle on the floor. He fumbles for the light switch, and when he finds it, light floods the room. He squints as his eyes adjust. Kurt is sitting at the kitchen table, his posture slack and he's twirling the pepper shaker in his right hand.

"Jesus Christ, Kurt! You damn near gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry," he says, not looking up from the table. Blaine can see the worry in his features. He feels guilty for putting it there. Kurt takes a few long, purposeful breaths before he speaks again. "You just looked so defeated. I don't know what to say."

"I'm not."

"You're not what?" Kurt asks, finally making eye contact.

"Defeated. Scared maybe, but not defeated."

"Oh…good." He pauses. "Scared of what?"

"Losing you."

Kurt looks back down at the pepper shaker in his hand, and places it back on the table next to the salt. He folds his hands together in his lap and stares down at them.

"You're not going to lose me," he says. "I thought you might break up with me."

"Not a chance," Blaine says. "You can't get rid of me that easily, you know."

Kurt laughs. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"So Rachel knows?" Blaine asks. Like it or not, they need to have this conversation.

"I don't think she'll say anything," Kurt says, looking up at Blaine. "I'll talk to her."

Blaine sets his beer down on the counter and walks over to Kurt, taking the chair next to him and turning it so that they're facing each other.

"We can both talk to her if you want. We're in this together, you know."

Blaine reaches for Kurt's hand, intertwining their fingers and running his thumb over Kurt's wrist. Kurt's mouth turns up into a small smile. This time, it reaches his eyes.

"I'd like that," he says.

Kurt's eyes fall to their joined hands, and he just watches it for a minute. When he speaks again, his voice is sure and reverent.

"I like the sound of that," he says.

"Sound of what?"

"Together," Kurt replies. "It's nice."

"It is," Blaine says, leaning forward to kiss him.

* * *

Rachel is beyond angry at Kurt. He had no right to keep a secret that big from her, especially one that could seriously harm their chances of going to nationals, or even competing at all. And he lied. Flat out _lied_. That is unacceptable.

And Mr. Anderson, an educator, keeping a secret like that. What else is he hiding? Rachel considers Googling him, but decides it's not worth the wasted time. She has a mountain of homework to do and she wants to get to bed early.

So she spends the evening on geometry problems while avoiding Kurt's phone calls and texts. She's not ready to talk to him yet. She feels betrayed and confused, and worst of all, unprepared for her solo audition the next day. Normally she likes to go to bed early the night before a call back, having worked out earlier in the day and chosen her outfit carefully. But tonight she's having trouble sleeping and she still hasn't decided what she wants to wear.

The next day at school, Kurt keeps trying to get her to talk, but she tells him she's resting her vocal chords for her audition. He looks disappointed, but respects her wishes. Mr. Anderson acts completely normal during glee, even complimenting her harmonies on a duet with Finn from the day before. And when it comes time for her to sing, she feels like she really kills it.

"Okay, guys," Mr. Anderson says after the applause from Rachel's performance dies down and he's finished jotting his notes. "Now that everyone has had an opportunity to audition for our competition solos, I'd like to announce our featured performers."

There's a murmur of excitement around the room. Rachel sits up taller in her chair and flips her hair over her shoulder, confident she'll have a spot in the competition.

"First, I want to say that everyone who tried out was outstanding. This was a difficult decision, but I'm sure everyone will agree that this is a strong lineup." Mr. Anderson looks down at the clipboard in his hands and smiles. "First up," he says. "Mercedes Jones."

There's a round of applause, and an enthusiastic whoop from Sam. Mercedes and Kurt exchange some secret handshake looking thing. Rachel smiles and turns around in her chair.

"Congratulations, Mercedes," she says, always happy to be a team player. And Mercedes' audition had been really good, even though it couldn't compare to Rachel's flawless one.

"Who else, Mr. A?" Finn asks.

"Our second finalist is … Santana Lopez."

Another round of applause. Rachel congratulates Santana, who just gives her a smirk.

"Thank you, thank you," Santana says. "I promise I'll remember you all as the losers you are when I'm famous." She stands and takes a small bow.

Rachel turns back to the front and rolls her eyes. Mr. Anderson must be saving her name for last because she was the best.

"Don't you think we should continue, Mr. Anderson?" she asks. "So we can get started with the set list."

"Yes, of course, Rachel," he replies. "Our last featured performer is…."

Rachel sits up taller and wriggles in her seat, ready to stand and bow when her name is announced. Maybe she'll even give a short speech. She smiles broadly at Mr. Anderson.

"…Kurt Hummel."

Rachel's face feels numb. Her mouth hangs open as she tries to remember how to breathe. Is this what an aneurism feels like?

Everyone is congratulating Kurt and applauding, and Kurt is smiling and curtsying. Rachel feels like she might throw up. But it's Finn patting Kurt on the back that stirs her from silence.

"This is completely unacceptable!" Rachel shouts.

"Rachel!" Mr. Anderson scolds.

"No," she says. "My audition was _flawless_. I demand a recount."

"There's nothing to recount, Rachel," Mr. Anderson says calmly. "My decision is final."

"But it's _Kurt_ ," she says, defeated. She looks around the room for support. Everyone is looking at her in confusion.

"I'm with Berry," Santana says. "What if Hummel chokes again?"

"I have faith in my boy Kurt," Puck says, hitting Kurt on the back so hard he stumbles a little.

"Me too," adds Tina. "Rachel's just bitter because she didn't get a solo for once. Now you know how the rest of us felt for the last two years."

"This is absolutely preposterous," Rachel says, getting out of her chair and turning to face the group. "I won't stand for it."

She storms out of the choir room in a way that she perfected years ago, her brown loafers tapping loudly on the tile. She heads for the girls' bathroom flinging her tiny fists into one of the stall doors just to hear it slam.

"Easy there, Hobbit, you'll hurt yourself."

"Santana," Rachel says, trying to bite back tears. "I'm not really up for talking right now."

"Oh can it," she says. "I'm on your side. I don't really think Hummel should get another solo. We almost lost regionals because of him. And as much as I'm loathe to admit it, you're our strongest performer."

"God, it's just so stupid. I mean everyone knows I'm a much better singer than Kurt. He forgot _lyrics_ in a _competition_ , for crying out loud," Rachel rants as she paces back and forth in the bathroom. "It's completely ridiculous to give him a second chance. And you know what's really crazy in all this? He probably only gave him that solo because they're dating and he's trying to get in Kurt's pants."

As soon as the sentence is out, Rachel slaps a hand over her mouth. Santana's usually disinterested expression turns into a gleeful smile, and she looks positively predatory.

"Are you serious?" she asks, eyes wide.

"Oh god, Santana, you can't say anything," Rachel begs.

"So those rumors are true…and it's about our very own resident gay." Santana pauses and smiles to herself. "Way to go Hummel. Bagging the gay dream boat teacher. I'm _actually_ impressed."

Rachel reaches out for Santana's arm. She glares down at it and shirks Rachel's touch.

"Please," Rachel says.

"Calm your tits, Berry. I won't say anything."

"You won't?"

"No," she says, looking earnest. "If Anderson gets fired, we can't compete. And I really want to win at nationals, especially now that I have a solo."

Santana throws an arm around Rachel's shoulders.

"Now let's head back to practice so we can get ready to kick some ass in New York. Maybe we can figure out how to use this situation to our advantage to get you a solo."

Rachel smiles at her and allows herself to be led back to the choir room. She doesn't see Santana take out her phone to send a text.

* * *

"I don't want to do the solo," Kurt says, dropping down next to Blaine on the sofa.

"Don't be silly," Blaine says, turning to face him. "You'll be great. Regionals was a fluke; you know that."

"It's not that," Kurt says.

"Then what?"

"Rachel."

"She'll get over it," Blaine says. He runs a hand along Kurt's cheek, trailing along his neck and down to his collar. He cups Kurt's neck and pulls him in for a kiss, soft and sweet.

Kurt lets himself get lost in the silkiness of Blaine's lips for a moment. The warm, firm touch of Blaine's kiss pushes away his negative thoughts and fills him up with desire. When Blaine pulls away, though, reality comes crashing back in. Kurt rests his head on Blaine's shoulder just to feel his presence.

"She finally responded to one of my texts," Kurt murmurs into Blaine's neck. "Said she won't tell anyone. I just don't want to give her any reason to be angry with me. I don't want to do the solo."

"Whatever you want," Blaine replies. "I think you should do it, but I can't make you. Even if your audition was the best."

"I think you might be biased, Mr. Anderson," Kurt teases.

"About other things maybe," he says, tilting Kurt's head up to kiss him. "But not about this. You were the best. Period."

"Other things you say?" Kurt asks feeling Blaine's smirk against his cheek. "Do tell."

"Well, your lips for one." Blaine leans down to kiss him. "Best lips in glee club."

"Just my lips?"

"No," he says. "Your eyes. Your nose. Your smile. And, of course your perfectly delectable ass."

Blaine squeezes it for extra emphasis. Kurt lets out a startled squeak.

"Is that all?" Kurt asks, leaning into him and running a hand along his thigh. He senses the turn this conversation is about to take, and it sends blood rushing south. He nips at Blaine's neck and presses kisses into his warm skin.

"All but my favorite part," Blaine says, letting his voice dip into a lower register.

"And what part would that be?" Kurt flicks his tongue out to Blaine's ear, inching forward so he's practically in Blaine's lap.

"Your heart."

Kurt gasps and lifts his head to see Blaine's expression. His eyes are big and open, glowing a deep amber, with flecks of green sparkling underneath. Kurt feels something clench in his chest.

"My heart?"

"You're the most caring person I've ever met, Kurt. Giving up a solo so you don't hurt your friend, or get me fired. Not many people would do that."

"You would," Kurt says.

"Maybe. But not for the same reasons."

Kurt laughs at that, realizing his boyfriend doesn't understand how wonderful he is. How lucky Kurt feels to be with him. How much he just _feels_ all the time. And suddenly Kurt needs to tell him. He looks up at Blaine — gorgeous, stunning, perfect Blaine — and smiles.

"I love you, you know," he says before he loses his nerve.

Blaine's face tightens ever so slightly, and for a terrifying second Kurt thinks maybe he's said the wrong thing. But then Blaine's expression softens and he breaks into a warm smile, eyes crinkling at the corners it's so big.

"I love you too," Blaine replies. "So much."

He takes Kurt's face in his hands and pulls him in for a kiss. It isn't a perfect kiss. In fact it's kind of messy and maybe a little wet because _someone_ is crying. But it's an absolutely perfect moment. And for now, that's enough. They can deal with everything else later.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up, this chapter has a definitive M rating. That's right, lovelies, I said smut.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Gayest Little Toaster."

"What do you want?" Blaine asks, feeling particularly _not_ in the mood for Sue's condescension.

"Oh, nothing," she says with a smirk. "Just to tell you that I'm paying the school superintendent a visit today."

"And I'm supposed to care about that because…?"

"No reason," she says, turning her back to him as she pours herself a cup of coffee. "Just another rumor about teacher-student relationships. It's probably nothing."

Blaine drops his fork into his pasta. Sauce splatters all over his sweater and shirt, and he nearly knocks over his bottle of water as he reaches for a napkin. Thankfully Sue's back is to him, or he's certain she'd read the panic on his face, not to mention come up with some other ridiculous nickname thanks to his clumsy moment.

"Why take it to the school board then?" he asks, forcing his tone to remain steady in spite of his rapid heartbeat as he works at the larger stains on his sweater.

Blaine knows the rumors had continued, but no one had been able to pin it on him or Kurt. Does Sue know something? He tries to remain stoic as she turns around and walks toward his table. Blaine is still dabbing at the spots on his shirt with a wet napkin, trying to avoid making eye contact.

"Well, I think it's best if we explore all possibilities," she says. "Wouldn't want anyone corrupting young, impressionable minds, now would we?"

She's standing over him, obviously trying to intimidate. It's a tactic she uses on everyone, but she particularly likes to tower over Blaine to emphasize their height difference. He flashes back to their encounter in the grocery store. She had actually accused him and Kurt of having a relationship. And she was right, of course, but she had done nothing about it. What changed? Does she have proof now?

"N-no," he stammers. "Not at all."

He's stunned. If Sue is going to the school board, this can only end badly for him.

"Apparently, one of our students overheard a conversation about one of our teachers and a senior who have been carrying on a secret relationship for months," she says. "Any idea who that might be?"

Even though he knows the answer to her question, Blaine's mind races. Who could have overheard anything? And then his stomach drops out.

_Rachel._ Who had she told?

Somehow, Blaine manages to find his voice.

"Sue, I don't know what you're implying, but I sincerely hope you're not accusing me of anything … _unsavory_."

"Oh certainly not, Anderson." She lifts her coffee mug to take a sip and then pauses. "Wait… _You're_ not hiding anything…are you?" She tilts her head and smirks at him.

Blaine swallows hard, trying to compose himself. He has to say something, _anything_ , to try to get her to back off. He can't let it show.

"Not at all," he says. "It sounded like you were implying something about me, and after your spectacular display at the supermarket _and_ getting Schue fired, forgive me if I'm a little concerned about your intentions."

"Well, like I said," she says with a shrug, "it's just a rumor. I'm sure it's nothing to get your panties in a twist over." She tips her mug in Blaine's direction in some sort of mocking salute, and leaves the lounge.

Blaine exhales audibly and drops his head in his hands. If Sue suspects anything, or god forbid _knows_ something, he and Kurt are finished. And he's unemployed. He takes out his phone and thumbs over Kurt's name.

From Blaine (11:29 a.m.)  
 _We need to talk._

From Kurt (11:31 a.m.)  
 _Now? Everything ok?_

From Blaine (11:31 a.m.)  
 _Not sure. Can you get out of fifth period?_

From Kurt (11:32 a.m.)  
 _I don't think so. We have a quiz, but after that probably. Where?_

From Blaine (11:34 a.m.)  
 _My office._

From Kurt (11:35 a.m.)  
 _You're scaring me._

* * *

"Rachel, I think something's going on with Kurt and Mr. Anderson," Mercedes says.

"W-what makes you think that?" Rachel says, smiling a little too widely.

"Sam and I ran into them at the Lima Bean the other day," she says, pulling her chemistry book out of her locker.

"Oh, is _that_ it?" Rachel says, turning her attention back to her own locker. She's trying to hide her nervousness; it's best to keep her hands occupied. "They do that all the time. There's nothing wrong with them having coffee together. He's mentoring Kurt, you know."

"I know," Mercedes says, "but after Kurt told us about his crush, I've been thinking, what if he told Mr. Anderson… and what if he feels the same way. Not to mention, they looked _pretty_ cozy for just a teacher and student."

Rachel freezes, her hand hovering over a notebook. If Mercedes figures this out, Kurt will blame her. She has to handle this carefully.

"What do you mean by cozy?"

"Well, I saw Kurt wipe whipped cream from his nose, and later they were laughing."

"Mercedes, please tell me you're not considering a career in law enforcement. Your detective skills leave a lot to be desired."

Mercedes slams her locker shut and turns to face Rachel, cocking her head to the side and pursing her lips.

"You can't tell me you haven't seen it," she says. "The way they always look at each other; the way Mr. Anderson smiles at Kurt when he sings. It's even more ridiculous than the way you look at Finn."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Rachel says, closing her own locker.

Mercedes look says it all; she doesn't believe Rachel one bit.

"Okay, maybe there's _something_ there," Rachel concedes, "but I doubt there's anything going on. Mr. Anderson would never…"

"Yeah, but the rumors," Mercedes interrupts, leaning in and lowering her voice. "What if they're true?"

Rachel's eyes go wide as she realizes that the fleeting rumors going around McKinley are about Kurt. How could she have missed that?

"N-no," she says. "That's ridiculous. It's not about them."

"But how can you be sure, Rachel? It's not like Kurt would tell us."

"I'm _sure_ , Mercedes."

She narrows her eyes at Rachel. "How are you sure?"

"Um…" Rachel stumbles over her thoughts. How can she be sure? She's not. Well, she is, but Mercedes can't know that. What does she know? What can she say? She knows Kurt is dating…. "Mark!"

"Mark who?" Mercedes asks.

"Kurt's boyfriend," Rachel replies. "He's been seeing him for months. I'm surprised he hasn't told you." She flips her hair over he shoulder and smiles at Mercedes, impressed with her ability to think on her feet. "Maybe he just didn't want to steal your thunder when you had just started dating Sam."

Mercedes still looks skeptical, but she follows Rachel down the hallway to class. Rachel has a feeling Kurt's not off the hook yet.

* * *

"Sand bags, I think it's time we break out the big guns."

"What did you have in mind, coach?" Santana asks, looking curious and maybe a little confused.

The school board had all but ignored Sue's claims that Blaine was having a relationship with Kurt, citing a lawsuit filed by Will Schuester after her last accusation as a reason why they needed more than some unsubstantiated rumors to fire someone.

"Unless Kurt or his family makes a complaint, there's nothing I can do," the superintendent had said.

Sue hates it when her plans are derailed, so she had decided to change tactics. Call in the reinforcements, if you will.

"What do you know about Porcelain and Blanderson?" she asks Santana.

"Kurt and Mr. A?" Santana asks, looking more shocked than confused. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you're supposed to be spying on them, Lopez," she says. "Is your pony tail too tight?"

"Well, uh…I mean, there _are_ rumors," Santana says narrowing her eyes. "But nothing concrete."

"Damn." Sue looks down at her desk for a moment, thinking. She needs proof. Santana is in that stupid glee club. There has to be a way to use that to her advantage.

And then she has an idea. She opens a desk drawer and pulls out a small tape recorder and a large roll of medical tape.

"Cha Cha, you're going undercover," Sue says, grinning.

* * *

Kurt feels uneasy about Blaine's texts all afternoon. Fifth period feels like eons away, and when it finally comes, he can't focus on the quiz sitting on the desk in front of him. The words are a blur of symbols and shapes that might as well be Chinese for all that Kurt understands of them.

What if Blaine wants to break up? Kurt can't even begin to think what he'd do if that were the case. He may not be very experienced in dating, but "We need to talk" is never a good sign.

The other thought lingering in the back of his mind is that they've been found out. But surely if that were the case, Blaine would be gone — fired. Word would have gotten around McKinley by now. Right?

So what does he want to talk about? His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest as the minutes tick by at a snail's pace.

He tries to focus on his quiz, but he only manages doodles in the margins. Random swirls and hearts dot the edge of his page, while his GPA slowly drops.

When the bell finally rings, signaling the end of the period, Kurt flings his mostly blank quiz on Mr. Winters' desk and makes a mad dash for Blaine's office. When he gets there, the door is closed, so he takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders before knocking.

Kurt hears a muffled "come in" from the other side of the door, but his palms are sweating as he turns the handle, so he stumbles into the door instead of opening it and walking through. His shoulder slams painfully into the hard wood, and he's still rubbing at it when Blaine opens the door.

He looks tired and older than Kurt's ever seen him; maybe it's the dark circles under his eyes, or his rumpled shirt and mussed hair. If it weren't for the worry lining his face, it would be eerily similar to how he looks after he and Kurt have been making out. The contrast both calms him and reinforces his fears.

"You okay?" Blaine asks, tilting his head.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Kurt says. "You look …"

"Awful?"

"Well, no," he says with a laugh. "You could never look _awful_ …but yeah, kind of."

"Come in," Blaine says, pulling on Kurt's arm and closing the door behind him.

"What happened?" Kurt asks as Blaine flings himself unceremoniously in the chair behind his desk. Kurt takes the seat opposite him, sitting up tall and rigid.

Blaine doesn't respond right away. He drops his head in his hands and exhales slowly and audibly.

"Kurt, we have a problem."

Kurt's heart begins to race. He's not ready for Blaine to break up with him. He thought it was still a possibility as long as they had the risk of getting caught. But he's just not ready. Please no.

"Please don't break up with me," he says, voice cracking.

Blaine's head jerks up and his usually golden eyes look darker somehow. As if the intensity of what he's feeling is reflected in their deeper, more ominous amber. Kurt feels like he's going to be sick, the bile rising up in the back of his throat. He clenches his fists in his lap, and exhales slowly. He has to look away, unable to maintain eye contact if it's all over. He lifts his chin in haughty defiance, blinking rapidly to hold back tears, unsure how much longer he can keep it together.

And then Blaine speaks.

"I'm not breaking up with you," Blaine says softly.

"You're not?" Kurt asks. His voice sounds squeaky to his own ears, and he hopes it's not really what comes out.

"No," Blaine says.

"Then what's the problem?" Kurt asks.

"Sue."

"Coach Sylvester?"

"She heard a rumor," Blaine says. "About us."

Kurt's knees feel wobbly, and he's glad he's not standing because he's certain his legs would buckle beneath him.

"Did they fire you?" Kurt asks, his voice so low, he's not sure Blaine hears him.

"What? … No!" he says, jumping out of his chair and taking the seat next to Kurt. He turns in the chair so they're almost facing and takes Kurt's hand. "No, she doesn't know it's about _us_. She has her suspicions, but no...so far we're still okay."

Kurt exhales a shuddering breath, feeling relieved but not altogether at ease. He turns to face Blaine. When their eyes meet, he can feel Blaine's fear, palpable in the suddenly too-warm office.

"So what are we going to do about it?" Kurt asks, running his thumb along Blaine's knuckles. He can feel Blaine's shoulders relax some at the gesture, and he can't help but smile at the thought.

"I just don't know," Blaine says. "Logically, I know we should cool it for a while…"

"I sense a but," Kurt says when Blaine trails off.

"But," Blaine says, smiling warmly. "I don't want us to be apart."

"Me neither," says Kurt, perhaps a little too quickly.

Blaine lifts his hand and runs it through Kurt's hair behind his ear. It has a soothing effect; Kurt hums and closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. When he opens his eyes, Blaine's face is just inches from his own. Blaine leans in to press a soft kiss to Kurt's forehead, and he lets out a shaky sigh.

"We just need to be careful," Blaine says. " _Extra_ careful."

"We're not being careful now," Kurt whispers.

"No," Blaine says, trailing his fingers along Kurt's hairline and then down to his jaw. He takes Kurt's chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts his head up. When he brings their lips together, it's warm and soft, but not nearly enough. Kurt groans when he pulls away.

"I need you," Kurt says without opening his eyes right away.

"You have no idea how much I'm having to restrain myself right now," Blaine says, eyes raking over Kurt's flushed face, their hands still joined in Kurt's lap.

"Can I come over after school?"

"Maybe," Blaine replies. "We have glee practice, you know."

"I know," he says, releasing Blaine's hand. "But after?"

"I'll text you?"

Kurt nods. He stands and tugs at his pants to try to hide the bulge that betrays his partial arousal. "I should really get to class," he says. "You too."

Blaine smirks at him. "I think I need to sit for a bit longer."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Kurt says with a wink. He turns on his heel and raises his hand to wiggle his fingers at Blaine over his shoulder. "See you in glee club, Mr. Anderson."

* * *

Once rehearsal is over, Blaine pulls out his phone as everyone files out of the choir room to send Kurt a quick text.

From Blaine (5:01 p.m.)  
 _Still interested in coming over?_

From Kurt (5:02 p.m.)  
 _Always interested, but I may not be able to get away. I'll let you know._

From Blaine (5:02 p.m.)  
 _:(_

From Kurt (5:02 p.m.)  
 _Love you._

From Blaine (5:03 p.m.)  
 _Love you too._

He pockets his phone and heads for his car. It's probably for the best that he and Kurt don't see each other tonight anyway. He'll probably order a pizza and get started on grading those tests from his third period class.

* * *

Kurt pulls his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door to Blaine's apartment. His nerves are growing as he quickly shuts the door behind him and drops his book bag to the side of the door. He'd rushed out of glee so fast, he didn't have time to stop and think if this was a good idea or not. He pauses a moment to undo the laces on his boots and sets those off to the side by his satchel, making up his mind as he grabs a small bag from the outer pocket.

Slowly, he begins to make his way towards Blaine's bedroom, pulling his shirt off as he goes and dropping it onto the floor. His hands go to the button on his pants and he thumbs it open, shimmying himself out of his skinny jeans and letting those drop to the floor as well. He steps out of them, continuing his way towards the bedroom as he tucks his thumbs under the elastic of his briefs and letting those fall just outside the door to the bedroom. He looks behind him at the trail of clothes leading from the front door to the bedroom and grins to himself before slipping through the door and laying himself down on Blaine's soft bed.

They'd been together before, but never more than what they had done their first few times and that one glorious, wonderful, perfect blow job. Kurt loves everything they've done, has enjoyed Blaine touching him and being able to touch Blaine in return, but lately he's been wanting _more,_ and the brush with fear this afternoon makes that want curl tighter in his stomach.

He opens the bag he brought with him and pulls out a condom and a bottle of lube and stuffs it under the pillows, convenient to get later but out of sight just now. He reaches down and draws his fingers over his skin, watching them as they make their way over his chest. He can feel his arousal beginning to stir, and he takes his time as he waits for Blaine.

When he finally hears the sound of a key in the door, Kurt's nerves sky rocket. He's been naked in front of Blaine before but he's never been exposed quite like _this_. Will he like it? Will he like him like this?

Blaine spots Kurt's bag by the door immediately. He's got a pizza box balanced on his arms that he puts on the table as he glances around. "Kurt?" He calls out, stepping forward. "I got dinner, but I wasn't expecting you, so the pizza has extra cheese and onions... Kurt?"

Then he sees the shirt on the floor and his heart races a little.

"In here." Kurt sounds breathless as he calls out from the bedroom. Blaine's suddenly sympathetic when he spots the pants. He's having a little trouble catching his own breath.

He freezes in the doorway to his bedroom. Kurt is stretched out on the bed, pale and gorgeous, hand on his cock stroking it lazily. His cheeks are flushed high, spots of pink on milky skin, and he looks like the picture of debauchery. He's just gorgeous; sinfully, perfectly gorgeous. "Oh my god," Blaine says, voice faint. " _Kurt."_

Kurt bites his bottom lip, a flush across his cheeks and down his chest as he looks over at his boyfriend. He watches as Blaine's eyes roam over his body, taking him in completely. His flush deepens as Blaine just stands there in the doorway, watching. Not moving.

"Blaine?" He asks, his hand stilling on his cock.

"Uh huh?" Blaine replies, his voice deep and gravely as he speaks, making Kurt shiver slightly. Blaine flicks his tongue out over his lips as he drags his eyes back up to Kurt's face. "This is uh..."

"I wanted to surprise you," Kurt says softly, ducking his head away from Blaine's gaze.

"You did that."

Blaine is still standing there in the doorway too far away and too _clothed_.

"Blaine, come here. _Please_ ," Kurt begs softly.

He wants to surprise his boyfriend, but he can only be on display like this for him for so long before he needs to have Blaine there with him.

"Yeah. Yes. God, Kurt, _yes_."

Blaine surges into action to cross the room in a few steps. He hasn't even taken off his bag yet, the one with the papers to be graded inside. And why that occurs to him in that moment, he'll never know.

The bag hits the floor with a dull thud followed very shortly by the shirt he yanks over his head. His knees hit the bed before he bothers with his belt or his pants because he has to kiss Kurt, has to _now_.

He puts one hand on Kurt's chest and the kiss goes deep and dirty from the very start. It's been too long a day with too many things weighing on both of them. This, _this_ , is what they're doing it all for; not sex, but them. Blaine feels Kurt's hands fumbling at his belt and working it open and off, but he can't tear his mouth away from Kurt's long enough to assist.

"Good surprise?" Kurt asks, letting his hands press and feel up Blaine's chest, the soft hair tickling at his palms.

"Good surprise," he mutters, smiling joyfully into the kiss. "The _best_ surprise."

He straddles Kurt and kisses down his body, sucking the head of Kurt's cock between his lips wetly in a way that makes Kurt's hips jerk and his voice cry out. Blaine wants too much of everything Kurt's offering right now to linger any one place, though; within a minute or two he's kissing his way back up to that beautiful, slick mouth.

Kurt gasps out and his body jerks under Blaine's touch. He thrills at it. Blaine runs a hand down Kurt's side, murmuring against his lips how _beautiful_ he is.

"Blaine-" Kurt gasps out, a hand running behind Blaine's neck to pull him in again for another kiss. He presses his lips to Blaine's, his tongue flicking in to press and then slide against his as he pushes his body up for more friction. He takes a moment to just enjoy the press and slide of their skin together before he lets his legs fall open for Blaine.

"I want you," he says quietly against Blaine's lips.

Blaine pulls away, almost unsure if Kurt means what he thinks he means. "You want...?"

"You." Kurt's voice is soft but firm, insistent. "All of you. Please."

"Oh my god," Blaine says faintly. He kisses Kurt again, a little harder than before, trying to process the intent there. "Are you sure?"

"Blaine." Kurt's hands come up to frame Blaine's face. "Look at me. I have never been more sure of anything."

He means it. He means it, and Blaine can't think of a single reason why he should deny them this.

He nods. "Okay."

Kurt's eyes widen. "Really?"

They both grin at each other, both smile into a kiss that's a little wondrous and a lot joyful. "Yes."

Kurt reaches back under the pillows and pulls out the condom and the bottle of lube he'd stashed there. He's feeling shy again as he places them down beside them on the bed, his cheeks flushing deeper. Blaine smiles at him and reaches out once more, pulling him into another kiss and then another, letting them melt into each other and completely unable to stop himself.

He reaches out and plucks the lube up, drizzling a bit into his palm before scooting back down the bed and gently tapping Kurt's legs. He gasps and almost grabs himself as he watches Kurt spread his legs easy and wide for Blaine. It's a heady, erotic sight.

"Fuck, _Kurt_ ," he groans, shaking his head before leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of his thigh. "You are _so_ gorgeous."

Kurt is equally blown away by what Blaine is doing to him. He'd thought he'd be nervous before this, had somehow imagined it to be a terrifying moment... at the very least, terrifyingly awkward. But this is Blaine, and Blaine never makes him feel less than perfectly loved. Now is no exception.

"I want to make this good for you," Blaine promises. He keeps one hand stroking Kurt's cock, keeping him hard while the other hand prepares him.

The first finger feels odd; strange and not at all painful, but not really that arousing. The second is more of a stretch, but it makes Kurt sort of gasp and then Blaine finds that spot that makes everything go blindingly wonderful for a spasming moment, and Kurt gets a hint of how good the _good_ can really be.

Three fingers and Kurt isn't sure that Blaine is actually going to get around to having sex with him. He understands Blaine's dedication to readying him, but he's impatient now. He squirms and throws back his head and gasps and says, "Blaine," in a needy, choked voice.

"I have to make sure you're ready-prepared-" Blaine starts, trying to keep a handle on his breathing. But Kurt is so tight and so warm around his fingers and he _vibrates_ with energy underneath him, and Blaine just _knows_ that when they actually get down to it he is so not going to last long at all.

"I am ready, I am _so_ ready," Kurt pants, bucking his hips up so that he can push back down on Blaine's fingers, taking them deeper into his body. Blaine chokes out a moan and has to lean forward and capture Kurt's lips in another blinding kiss, his tongue pushing into Kurt's mouth to taste his own.

"Yeah," Blaine agrees, unable to say anything more as his other hand scrambles for the condom wrapper on the bed. He tears it open with his teeth and is about to slide it on when Kurt's hand stops him.

"Let me. I want to..." Kurt says, voice soft as he takes a moment to slowly roll the condom down Blaine's cock. Blaine just watches, eyes wide and pupils blown at Kurt's hand stroking down his length.

Kurt keeps touching him once the condom is on, slicking him up with lube, and Blaine has to move his hand away because he's verging on the edge of too ready, and Kurt is looking at him like Blaine is the only person that exists. Maybe right now he is. There's so much trust and feeling in there and Blaine just loves Kurt _so fucking much_ in the moment, and really every moment.

The blunt head of his cock presses against Kurt, and then he's in, eyes locked on Kurt's face. He stops at the first wince of pain and holds until Kurt breathes in deep and nods for him to move more. It's a series of stops and starts, of Blaine's hands stroking over Kurt's thighs and sweat beading on Kurt's forehead, of their bodies balanced so precariously as they ease into this.

Then he's in – all the way, bodies flush together, and Kurt lets out a sound that's part pain and part disbelief that shoots right through Blaine. He reaches down and takes Kurt in his hand, stroking him back to hardness until Kurt's squirming from more than discomfort and nodding at Blaine again. "Move now... please."

"Okay," Blaine's voice is gruff with suppressed emotion as he begins to pull back. He keeps his movements slow and fluid, pulling back until just the tip of his cock remains in Kurt before slowly pushing back into him, filling Kurt up.

Kurt's head falls back, his eyes squeezing shut as he moans, long and low and loud in the bedroom. "Oh god, _Blaine_ ," Kurt whimpers, his hips bucking up hard into Blaine's. "You feel…you feel like you're everywhere."

"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine groans, falling forward a bit so he can kiss Kurt again, jarring his cock deeper into Kurt. Kurt gasps hard, his hips jerking hard down onto Blaine before rolling back up.

"God that was," Kurt gasps. "More Blaine. Give me more."

From there it's a blur of intense feeling and exquisite friction. Blaine moves them both until he's over Kurt, because he can't _do_ this without kissing him; he needs everything right now. Kurt catches on right away and his legs lock around Blaine's waist and they are sharing breath and space and kisses, and they couldn't get any closer if they tried.

Blaine rocks into him, the muted movement drawing it out a little but not enough.

"God, Kurt," Blaine whines, pressing his face into the damp curve of Kurt's neck.

He feels fingers in his hair and he gasps as his orgasm hits him, barreling through him as he fills the condom.

"Shit," he gasps.

Kurt laughs. "That's romantic."

His voice is so _deep_ , deeper than Blaine's heard it before, and his cock is digging into Blaine's stomach.

Blaine reaches between them and starts to jerk Kurt off.

"Sorry, sorry," Blaine whispers into the kiss, his other hand going to the other side of Kurt's face to pull him into the kiss. "You're just- god you're so hot," Blaine replies. If he was with anyone else he'd feel embarrassed about how fast it took him to come but not with Kurt. He could never feel that way with Kurt.

He strokes harder, faster, his wrist twisting at the head of Kurt's cock before he slides back down to squeeze the base. Kurt gasps and thrusts his hips up hard, wanting more friction from Blaine. Always more.

"You are so hot and feel so good, Kurt," Blaine whispers directly into Kurt's ear, his voice low and deep as he works Kurt over. "You feel so good around me Kurt. Want to feel you come now."

Blaine's voice feels like it's hard-wired to go straight to Kurt's cock. He's never felt sexier, never felt more wanted and more worthy in his life. He gives in to everything and lets Blaine get him there until Kurt is a panting sweaty mess, shaking with his orgasm as he spills over Blaine's fist and onto his stomach.

He's still trying to catch his breath when he feels Blaine easing out of him. He kisses Kurt again, long and slow and perfect, before he gets out of bed.

"I'll be right back," he says. "Just gonna clean us up a little."

It feels like only a few seconds later that Blaine is curling back into his side on the bed again, wiping at Kurt's stomach and the mess of lube on his skin until he feels... not clean but clean enough, and superbly cared for.

Kurt sinks back into the bed, his eyes still closed as Blaine curls up around him, an arm over his middle.

"How are you feeling?" He asks softly, pressing a kiss to Kurt's bare shoulder.

"Tired. Exhausted. So good," Kurt mumbles, turning his head and opening his eyes so he can smile over at Blaine.

Blaine smiles back, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss to Kurt's lips.

"Everything you wanted it to be?" he asks him quietly, hoping so.

Kurt nods and curls up closer to Blaine. "Better."

* * *

As New Directions begins preparing for nationals, Kurt still insists he not be the one given a solo. Despite Blaine's protests, he's true to his word, but instead of just giving it to Rachel as Kurt had hoped, he opens it up to everyone again.

His decision was mostly influenced by his song selection. Blaine's plan was that Kurt sing "As if We Never Said Goodbye," but he really doesn't feel like anyone else can carry the emotional weight of the number the same way Kurt can. So he needs to pick a new song.

After hearing Mercedes and Santana duetting on "River Deep, Mountain High," he's certain that's their final number, but he still needs two other songs, and time is running out.

"Mr. Anderson?" Tina asks quietly from the back of the room.

"Yes, Tina?"

"I'd like to try something for nationals."

Several heads jerk around to face her. Tina hadn't ever expressed much of an interest in being in the spotlight before.

"Tina, are you sure?" Rachel asks, giving Tina an overly bright smile. "Remember what happened the last time you had a solo?"

Blaine can tell Rachel's trying to sound like she's looking out for Tina, but it just comes across as condescending.

"Rachel, if Tina wants to do a solo, she should," Blaine says.

"Thank you, Mr. Anderson," Tina says, standing. "But actually, I have an idea for a group number that will give several of us the opportunity to be featured."

She hands Blaine a stack of papers. It's the lyrics to "ABC" by the Jackson 5. She's broken out the lines for several members of the glee club. She has a featured part, but Kurt, Sam, Quinn and even Mike have solo moments. It's actually a really great idea.

"This looks like a really fun number, Tina," Blaine says, passing the lyric sheets out to the group. "And I really like the way you worked everyone in."

" _Almost_ everyone," Rachel says, reading the paper in her hands.

She's right. Rachel, Mercedes and Santana have obviously been left out.

"Well, when I started working on it, I assumed you would already have a solo," Tina says.

"But I don't, do I?" Rachel asks, glaring at her. "I can't believe this," she says to the room at large. "Doesn't anyone see how unfair this is?!"

A few of them exchange uncomfortable looks, but no one responds.

Rachel's eyes land on Finn.

"Finn?" she says.

"Uh…um, well…"

When Finn can't find his words, Rachel huffs out an exaggerated breath and storms out of the room. Blaine's eyes find Kurt, who is looking toward the door that Rachel has just stomped through. Before Blaine can say anything, Kurt is out of his seat and following Rachel out of the choir room.

"Rachel?" Kurt calls as he wanders the hallways.

His eyes land on a small huddled figure at the end of a row of lockers, sitting on the floor, knees hugged close to her chest, her head resting on her arms.

"Rachel, please come back in there. There's still one solo spot left, and I think you have a really good shot at it."

"It's pointless," she says, lifting her head. "Mr. Anderson is determined to make my life miserable."

"He's determined to make it _fair_ ," Kurt insists, crouching down low to meet Rachel's eyes. Her mascara is starting to run. She's actually crying.

"Fair for whom?" she asks. "I'm not asking for every solo. Just one."

"I know," Kurt says, rubbing a hand on her shoulder. "I asked him to give you my solo."

"You did?"

"Yeah," he says, smiling. "You deserve it."

"So what happened?"

"He didn't want you to think he was bribing you."

"So his solution is to make me hate him?"

"He's well-intentioned, if a bit clueless," Kurt says fondly. "You have to admit he has a sort of naïve charm."

"I'd be more inclined to agree if it didn't mean I'd be sitting in the cheap seats for nationals," she says.

"You know that's not going to happen, Rachel."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know Bl…Mr. Anderson," he says, eyes shifting around at the slip up. "He's nothing if not unfailingly fair."

"I suppose you're right," she says, wiping at her eyes and sniffling.

"Of course I am. Now you just need to prove to him that you deserve it," Kurt says. "So why don't you get back in there and knock his socks off with one of those show-stopping numbers I know you've got in your back pocket."

He reaches out a hand and she takes it, smiling up at him as he helps her to her feet.

"Kurt?" she says, looking up at him with doe eyes. "I'm sorry I've kind of been ignoring you."

"I know."

"No, I'm serious," she says. "I was so angry you didn't tell me about … well, you know. But I've been thinking, and I get it. I mean, I'm still not happy you didn't tell me …I mean, he's your first real boyfriend, and you really shouldn't keep that kind of information from your best friend."

"Of _course_ not," Kurt interjects, hoping to bring a little levity to this conversation.

Rachel waves a dismissive hand in his direction.

"But I think I finally understand. And I want you to know I meant what I said. I won't tell anyone."

"I know," Kurt says. "I trust you."

She smiles at him then, and Kurt can't help but notice how good it feels to have his best friend back. And now he can talk to her, really talk, about his relationship.

"Being in love's a good look on you, you know," she says.

Kurt just smiles and loops her arm through his as he leads her back to the choir room.

* * *

Rachel gets her solo after all.

She opens their performance with "Don't Rain on My Parade" and brings the crowd to their feet. By the time they finish "ABC," the crowd is cheering and clapping along. Santana and Mercedes kill their song, leaving the group feeling friendly and slightly celebratory, despite the fact that they won't know if they've won for several hours.

Blaine calls them together into one of the boys' hotel rooms.

"You all were so great today," he says. "Win or lose, we did our absolute best."

There's some cheering and high-fiving and lots of hugging. Blaine feels so proud as he looks around the room at his students. They have a good shot at winning.

"Hi," a quiet voice says from behind him.

"Kurt," he says, smiling but he doesn't turn around. "You were amazing."

"Thanks," Kurt says, just loud enough for Blaine to hear. "I'm dying to kiss you right now. Maybe other things…"

Blaine tries to keep his face neutral as the memory of that perfect afternoon churns in his mind and sets his heart racing.

"Me too," he says. "The way you used your hips during 'ABC' was torture."

Kurt laughs. "All part of my evil plan," he says. "Can I see you later?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Kurt."

"Why not?" he says under his breath. "You, me…a king-sized bed. Pretty sure it's time for an encore."

Blaine inhales sharply. It sounds like heaven actually, but it's definitely not a good idea.

"You're sharing a room, Kurt. Don't you think Artie and Mike will notice you're missing?"

"I can wait until they go to sleep."

He considers it for a moment. No one would know. They could be discreet and Kurt could be back in bed before the other boys wake up. They could…no. It's too risky.

"No," he says as firmly as he can manage.

Blaine hears Kurt's heavy sigh from behind him, and he wishes he could kiss that frustration away.

"Fine," Kurt says, just as a voice carries over the din of the chatter in the room.

"Yo, we have like four hours until they post the results for the top ten," Puck says. "Dude, I need pizza."

"Yeah, Mr. A," Finn says. "I'm starving. Can we get pizza?"

"Sure," Blaine says, taking out his wallet. "Get enough for the group. We might as well get comfortable while we wait. The rest of you can go back to your rooms if you want. Just don't leave the hotel. We need to meet in the lobby at 4:30. No exceptions."

Several of them file out, Mercedes complaining that she needs to change out of her costume; the tulle is scratchy and the heels are pinching. There are some hums of agreement from the other girls. Sam goes with Finn and Puck to get pizza.

It's an easy afternoon. Blaine hangs out with Kurt and a handful of the other glee clubbers. Rachel keeps giving him looks, and Santana seems oddly concerned with sticking close to the group. But everyone is in a good mood, and Kurt looks relaxed and at ease. It's perfect.

That should have been the first clue.

* * *

New Directions meets in the lobby of the hotel at 4:30 to walk over to the convention center. Mercedes is back in costume, still complaining about the itchy tulle.

"All I'm saying is, we'd better win," she says. "Because I'm going to have a rash from this." She gestures toward her skirt.

"Let's just hope there's no open flame," Kurt jokes. "All this synthetic fabric, the hair spray….the auditorium would explode."

He's so excited to be back at nationals and really have a shot at winning this time. He just wishes he could share it with Blaine in public too. He glances over at his boyfriend and smiles. They've only got a little over a month to go before he graduates. And then they won't have to hide.

Blaine seems to sense Kurt's eyes on him because he clears his throat loudly and turns to the group, looking a little flustered, but happy.

"Okay guys," Blaine says. "We did our best, and even if we don't win, you should be very proud of yourselves."

"Spare me the sappy speeches," Santana groans. "Let's go in there and collect our first-place trophy."

A collective cheer goes up and everyone is all smiles as they head to the stage.

Kurt lingers back, watching Blaine as he helps Artie adjust his tie. Rachel loops her arm through his, and leans her head on his shoulder.

"Come on," she says. "Stop making heart eyes at our teacher and walk me to the stage so we can smugly congratulate the losers."

He smiles at her. They're still waiting to hear about NYADA, but Kurt feels optimistic. They'd both done really well for their auditions, and they'd gotten even closer as friends since he told her about Blaine.

By the time they're on the stage with the other choirs in the top ten, Rachel is gripping Kurt's hand so tightly, he thinks it might cut off the circulation. Both of their palms are sweaty, and his heart is beating so heavily and rapidly in his chest, he feels like it might explode.

"In third place…" the announcer begins.

"Oh god, this is it," Rachel mumbles in his ear.

Kurt feels Blaine's hand on the small of his back. They're all pressed so tightly together, there's no way anyone could see it. He smiles. The warmth of Blaine's' touch seeps through his shirt and calms his nerves.

"We got this," he says to Rachel, while turning to look at Blaine. A warm smile greets him. He almost doesn't hear the name of the third place winner.

"From Jackson High School in Tupelo, Mississsippi, The Belltones!"

Rachel exhales loudly. "One down…please please please, let us win." She grips Kurt's hand even tighter and places her free hand over it.

"In second place, from Belleview High School in Park City, Utah, Audiophonic!"

The choir to their left erupts in cheers, and runs off to collect their trophy.

"Audiophonic?" Kurt says with a raised eyebrow.

"Some of these choirs have the worst names," Tina says to his left.

Kurt has the feeling they're making chit chat because their nerves are so frayed. There's only first place left and there are still eight choirs on the stage, some that had been really, really good. What if they don't win?

The hand on his back starts rubbing tiny circles, and Kurt wants to drop to the floor. His knees feel week and his pulse is rapid. Dear god, please let us win.

"And the 2012 National Show Choir champion…." The announcer calls out.

Kurt can feel his teammates collectively hold their breath. No one is moving. They're gripping each others' hands and waiting.

"From McKinley High in Lima, Ohio…"

And Kurt doesn't hear the rest because the announcer is drowned out by the screams and cheers of everyone around him. Finn rushes forward to accept the trophy and lifts it high over his head. Rachel throws her arms around him and kisses him on the cheek. Mike twirls Tina around and lifts her in the air. Puck chest bumps Finn, and then Sam; he high fives Artie. Mercedes grips Kurt in a bear hug and shouts "we did it!" in his ear. He hugs Rachel, Brittany, Santana and then Quinn. He turns to grab the next person, and it's Blaine, who's smiling wider than Kurt has ever seen before. His golden eyes are sparkling with happy tears as he sweeps Kurt in his arms.

"We did it….we did it!" Kurt says.

Blaine pulls back to look at him and says, "You were amazing."

Kurt beams at him. "I couldn't have done it without you," he says. " _We_ couldn't have done it without you."

Blaine hugs him again with such force they sway on the spot. Kurt has to grab Blaine's arms to keep from falling face first into him. Blaine grips his waist to keep himself upright and he laughs before tipping forward and pressing his lips to Kurt's.

Kurt is so busy kissing back that he doesn't even realize what has happened until he hears Rachel's gasp.

He jerks himself out of Blaine's arms and slaps his hand over his mouth. Blaine looks like he's going to throw up. The entirety of New Directions has gone silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't have gotten through this chapter without my lovely beta, Lindsay, and her ever-vigilant flailing. But I also want to thank Mav and dizzy for their mid chapter porn drop. I make no claim on that section because they were the catalyst and the epic writers of smut.


	16. Chapter 16

"Oh god," Blaine says, feeling the unmistakable feeling of a dozen pairs of eyes all on him at once. He doesn't even consider the audience as he corrals his students off the stage and into the wings.

Kurt's eyes are searching his friends' faces for … approval? Reassurance? Blaine can't tell. All he's worried about now is damage control.

Rachel is rubbing Kurt's arm, saying something Blaine can't quite hear. But everyone else looks as if they want him to say something, make a speech.

"Um, congratulations, everyone," Blaine says, trying desperately to break the tension.

"Dude, you just macked on my boy Hummel in front of, like everyone," Puck says. "I have some pretty kinky fantasies, but I _know_ I didn't imagine that. Did everyone else see that?"

Everyone else is just staring at him, and Blaine can't feel his feet. When did it get so hot?

"Mr. Anderson, are you feeling alright?" Tina asks, looking genuinely concerned.

"Whoa, dude," Puck says to Kurt. "I'm impressed. I thought I was the only one banging a teacher."

"Dude, that's my brother," Finn says. "Don't say banging."

" _No one_ say banging," Santana says. "I'm going to have to bleach my brain to erase that disgusting display of homoerotica from my mind."

"This is really none of anyone's business," Rachel says, trying her best to sound authoritative, but mostly sounding like she's talking to a room full of first graders. "This is between Kurt and Mr. Anderson, and I think we should all give them a moment to discuss what just happened." She grabs Quinn's arm and gestures for Finn to follow them, but no one moves.

"Uh uh," Mercedes says. "I need to hear this explanation. Kurt, I thought you had a boyfriend."

"I do."

It's the first time Kurt has spoken since before Blaine had kissed him. Everyone turns to face him.

"Then why did you kiss Mr. A?" she asks.

Blaine takes a deep breath when Kurt doesn't answer. Might as well face the music.

"Because _I'm_ his boyfriend," he says.

Puck catcalls as a murmur runs through the group. Kurt's eyes are wide. Only Santana and Rachel look unfazed.

"Kurt?" Mercedes asks.

Kurt nods, visibly shaking. "It's true."

"Dude," Finn says.

"Please don't tell dad," Kurt says, panic coloring his features. "At least let him hear it from me."

"Your dad?" Blaine asks, eyes going wide.

"Yeah," Kurt replies. "We should probably tell him before he hears about it from someone else."

"Oh…yeah."

Blaine feels like he might throw up. The idea of telling Burt Hummel that he's dating Kurt makes him absolutely sick. What's he going to say? "Hello, sir. I'm Blaine Anderson, I've been fucking your kid." Yeah, that's not going to go over too well.

Perhaps his concern should have been about his job, but he's _seen_ Kurt's dad. He doesn't look like the kind of guy who lets anyone mess with his family, especially Kurt.

* * *

The trip from New York back to Lima is tense, to say the least. Kurt avoids everyone as much as he can, sitting far away from the group and ignoring Rachel's offers to talk about it. He just wants to be left alone. He knows everyone is talking about him and Blaine, but he just doesn't want to hear it. Not now.

Blaine keeps his distance too, which doesn't help matters. Kurt would pay good money to know what his boyfriend is thinking. But under the circumstances, he thinks it's probably best if they don't spend too much time together in front of the glee club. When they get back to Ohio, Blaine leaves without saying anything to Kurt, and they don't see each other again until the next day at school. Not surprisingly, Blaine keeps their interactions entirely professional and doesn't try to engage Kurt in conversation.

So Kurt is already on edge when Blaine gets called into Figgins' office during glee that afternoon. The second he's out of room, the entirety of New Directions start in on Kurt. Apparently, they're done being accommodating and want details.

"So how is Captain Tightpants in bed?" Santana asks with a smirk.

"Santana!" Rachel scolds. "That's none of our business."

"Oh, Porcelain made it our business when he shoved his tongue down our teacher's throat in front of us all. Now spill, Hummel."

"Kurt, you don't have to say anything you don't want to," Rachel says, patting his knee.

"Aw, hell no," Artie interjects. "You are giving us all the dirt, and now. Spill, mister."

"I uh…well," Kurt says.

"How long have you been dating?" Tina asks, looking hurt.

"Um…"

"Does he have sex toys?" Puck asks, looking far more serious than Kurt would like.

"Gross, Puckerman!" Quinn says.

"What?" he asks. "I've heard gay guys are really kinky. I bet he even has flavored lube." He waggles his eyebrows at Kurt and grins.

"Oh for the love of god, Puckerman! No, there's no flavored lube!" Kurt shouts finally.

"But you use lube, right? I mean, that's gotta hurt like hell without it."

"Oh my god! Will you all just shut up? It's none of your damned business!"

And with that, Kurt storms out of the room, leaving a wake of murmurs behind him. He takes off in the opposite direction of the auditorium, hoping to throw Rachel off if she decides to follow him. He doesn't realize it's the direction of Figgins' office until he's right outside and can hear raised voices behind the door.

"Blaine, I'm very concerned about what I heard from nationals," Figgins says. "Sue tells me you kissed Kurt Hummel on stage and everyone saw you. This is unacceptable."

"I know, sir," Blaine says. "But I assure you, nothing like that will ever happen again."

"Oh, you better believe it won't," Coach Sylvester says. "I've got your letter of resignation all typed up. All you've got to do is sign."

Kurt imagines her grinning at Blaine, and he wants to storm in the office and punch her in her smug face. He clenches his fists and fights back the urge to act on his impulse.

"It's okay," Blaine says. "I was planning on leaving at the end of the year anyway."

Kurt slumps against the wall, unable to support his own body weight at the revelation. Blaine is leaving, leaving McKinley. Perhaps leaving him. The thought is nearly unbearable. Maybe he was wrong thinking Blaine was just giving him a little space. The reality that their fledgling relationship might be over hits Kurt like a punch to the gut. He charges down the hallway to the nearest boys bathroom, just barely making it into a stall before he empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

* * *

"Now hold on, Sue," Figgins says, snatching the papers from her hand before she can pass them to Blaine. "You are leaving at the end of the year?" he asks, turning toward Blaine.

"Yes, sir," Blaine replies.

"Well, then I see no reason to ask you to resign," he says, smiling broadly.

"What?" Sue says through gritted teeth. She looks like she's about to spit fire.

"If he's leaving already, there's no need to have him resign so close to the end of the year. We only have a month of school left," Figgins says. "Plus, Kurt Hummel is 18. Blaine hasn't broken any laws."

"Are you _insane_?!" Sue shouts.

"Now Sue," Figgins says calmly. "You know how hard it is to find a long-term substitute, and this will save me the hassle of finding someone so late in the term. It's a win-win situation."

Sue's face tenses up in a furious grimace. This is not going to end well. Blaine decides to try to diffuse the situation in the only way he knows how: pointing out to Sue that she's won too.

"You're getting your way, Sue," Blaine says. "I'm leaving. I don't understand the problem."

" _You_ are my problem, shortstack." She stands up to loom over him. Blaine rises to his feet to gain what little height he can and glares up at her.

"I think you need to back off, Sue," he says, lowering his voice as he clenches his fists.

"Or what?" she says, leaning in to sneer in his face.

Blaine is fighting every urge he has to pummel Sue into the ground, but he manages to control himself. He's not so sure Sue is going to be able to restrain herself, though.

"That's enough," Figgins says. "We are educators, people. Please try to control yourselves."

"Sorry, sir, I…" Blaine begins, backing away from Sue as he hears a commotion in the hallway.

"I really don't think…" Blaine hears Rachel's voice from the outside as the door opens.

"Out of my way, Thumbelina," an unfamiliar boy says as he shoves his way into the room. "I'm here on official show choir business. This doesn't concern you."

"I tried to tell him everyone already knows about you and Kurt, Mr. Anderson," Rachel says, smiling at Figgins, "But he wouldn't listen." She glares at the boy.

"What's all this about?" Blaine asks.

"Yes, I'd like to know that myself. Who are you?" Figgins asks the tall boy, who Blaine now notices is wearing a familiar striped tie and a Dalton blazer.

"I'm Sebastian Smythe," the boy says, obviously trying to look more grown up than he is. Blaine stifles a laugh. "And I have something to report about that teacher." He points to Blaine.

"If this is about Mr. Anderson and Kurt Hummel, I already know," Figgins says, rolling his eyes. "And it's being taken care of."

"Oh this is ridiculous!" Sue says, shoving Sebastian aside as she storms out of the office.

In the distance Blaine sees her knock books out of students' hands and shove a freshman into a bank of lockers. If Sue hasn't been fired by now, he doesn't know why she thinks he should for dating an 18-year-old student. It's an entirely consensual relationship, in fact. At least he's not terrorizing children on a daily basis.

Blaine looks back at Figgins, who just shrugs. As far as he's concerned, this is just another day with Sue Sylvester. Blaine rolls his eyes and turns back to Rachel.

"Told you they already knew," Rachel says, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Sebastian a look dripping with disdain.

Blaine looks at Sebastian just in time to see his face fall from the smug mask he held since entering the room.

"You know?" he says, his disbelief written clearly on his features.

"Yes, and I'm taking care of it," Figgins replies, giving him a stern look. "Thank you for your concern, but I think you should be going back to your school, young man."

"I uh…" Sebastian stammers.

"I can show you the way out," Rachel says. "So you don't get lost or trip over your chin." She chucks a finger under his jaw and smiles at him. He brushes her off and turns heel to exit the office. Rachel smiles at Blaine before skipping off behind him.

Figgins clears his throat.

"Blaine, I don't think I need to tell you how serious these accusations are," Figgins says. Blaine nods. "I also don't need to tell you, then, that you need to stay away from Kurt Hummel until he graduates next month. This school doesn't need the school board breathing down our necks again after what happened to William Schuester."

"I understand," Blaine says, feeling only partly relieved. How is he going to tell Kurt this? How can he tell him that have to stay away from each other until graduation? They tried that. And failed.

He leaves Figgins' office feeling kind of numb. The school day has ended, so he doesn't return to the choir room, opting instead for heading straight home. He probably should at least text Kurt, but right now all he has the energy for is bed, possibly preceded by a healthy dose of vodka.

From Blaine (10:47 p.m.)  
 _Can we talk?_

* * *

Kurt doesn't respond to Blaine right away, and by the next morning, he resolves himself that what he overheard outside Figgins' office is true. He skips school the next day, telling his dad he must have caught something in New York. No one questions him.

From Blaine (8:37 a.m.)  
 _You okay? I missed you in class today._

Kurt doesn't respond. He can't. Blaine can't just lie to him and then tell him he misses him. It doesn't make any sense. Kurt spends the day cleaning out his closet. He might as well get a jump on it if he's moving to New York in the fall.

From Blaine (11:28 a.m.)  
 _Can we talk, please?_

From Kurt (11:31 a.m.)  
 _There's nothing to talk about. I get it._

From Blaine (11:31 a.m.)  
 _Get what? I'm sorry I've been distant. I just needed some time to think. Figgins wants me to stay away from you._

From Kurt (11:33 a.m.)  
 _Until the end of the year._

From Blaine (11:33 a.m.)  
 _Yeah. How did you know?_

From Kurt (11:34 a.m.)  
 _I overheard. It's fine. I'll stay away._

From Blaine (11:35 a.m.)  
 _No, please don't. We should talk about this._

From Kurt (11:37 a.m.)  
 _There's nothing to talk about. I get it._

Kurt switches his phone off and turns his stereo up full blast. He needs something to distract him from the feeling of emptiness that has taken up residence in his gut.

By the time his dad, Carole, and Finn are all home that night, Kurt has managed to get his emotions under control. He's not going to let this thing with Blaine break him. Okay, so maybe he's more upset than he's letting on, but it gets easier to hide his pain when his dad shoves a giant white envelope in his hands that night at dinner.

"It's from NYADA," Kurt says.

"It is," Burt replies.

Kurt stares at the package in his hands, trying to keep them from shaking. It's a large envelope. That's a good sign, right? But he can't bring himself to tear into the creamy, white paper.

"Well, open it," Carole says, beaming.

Kurt nods slowly and flips the envelope over, sliding his finger underneath the flap. It opens easily, too easily. Kurt doesn't want to get to the part where he reads that letter, just in case it's bad news, but he reaches inside anyway, and pulls out a stack of papers. The one on top reads, "Dear Mr. Hummel." He can't look.

"What does it say, dude?" Finn asks.

Kurt glances back down at the page, and sees the first line of the letter. "We are pleased to inform you…" and he stops reading. A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as he looks up to find his dad beaming.

"I got in," Kurt says. "I did it…I got in!"

"Oh my god, Kurt! I knew you could do it, kid…I knew it!" his dad shouts, jumping out of his chair to throw his arms around Kurt. And for one brief moment, Kurt feels truly happy. His dreams are coming true. He's going to New York to study theatre. It's happening.

So why does it all feel just slightly off?

Kurt trudges to his room after dinner and debates calling Blaine to give him the news. But he can't do it, not yet. He leaves his phone off and goes to bed early, hoping everything will make sense in the morning. Just three days ago, everything had been so perfect, and now it all feels wrong, like the walls of his life had come crashing down around him, and he's lying in the rubble trying to claw his way out. Kurt doesn't understand. Nothing makes sense.

And the strange part is, he just wants to talk to Blaine, feel his strong arms around him and have Blaine tell him it's going to be alright. But maybe Blaine doesn't want him anymore. He's leaving him, and it hurts. He falls into a fitful sleep sometime around midnight, but he wakes up feeling like he went five rounds in a boxing ring. He heads to school feeling heavy and numb.

Kurt makes it until glee the next day before Blaine finally corners him. Kurt is frantically trying to gather his things before it's just him and Blaine, but apparently everyone else is out to get him because they race out of the room faster than he's ever seen before.

"Finn told me you got into NYADA," Blaine says after everyone else has left.

"I did," Kurt replies, not making eye contact.

"Were you going to tell me?" Blaine asks. Kurt doesn't need to see his face to know he's been hurt by Kurt's silence.

"I hadn't decided yet," Kurt replies, glancing up.

Blaine looks even more hurt by that revelation. But Kurt can't apologize for telling him the truth. Blaine squares his shoulders, trying to draw himself up taller.

"So you know I'm leaving McKinley, then?"

"I do."

Kurt knows he's being difficult by answering Blaine's questions so briefly, but he's afraid if he says more, he'll lose his resolve, and right now he needs to be strong.

"Don't you want to know why I'm leaving?" Blaine asks.

"Because of us," Kurt says, looking down at his hands as he picks at his cuticles. It's a bad habit, but sometimes you just need something to do with your hands.

"No, Kurt, I'm leaving because I'm going back to school," Blaine says. "To get my Ph.D. I want to teach music, maybe performance. I didn't realize how much until I took over New Directions."

"That's fine," Kurt says, looking up finally. He feels tears beginning to sting his eyes. "I get it."

"No, listen," Blaine says, eyes shining as well. "I want to be with you."

"Yeah, I know," Kurt says, looking away again. Blaine's gaze is too intense. He knows Blaine wants him, but that doesn't mean he can be. "Look, I've got to go."

Blaine reaches out for Kurt's arm. His hazel eyes are swimming with emotion as he pleads silently with Kurt. He looks pained as he speaks, and so beautiful it makes Kurt's heart ache. It's too much.

"Kurt…wait, please."

He can't do this. Not now. They both have dreams to follow. He won't hold Blaine back from his. He shrugs off Blaine's touch.

"I'll talk to you later, Mr. Anderson. Bye."

And he walks away.

* * *

Blaine crumples to his knees right there in the choir room.

Kurt is gone. He wants to run after him, but if Figgins sees him; if anyone sees him, he'll be done. And he can't take another chance, not with his admission to Tisch on the line. He doesn't know if that would prevent him from getting in, but he's not willing to risk it again. Once he's in New York, he can try to win Kurt back.

Or maybe he can do it before.

Later that week, Figgins announces a special assembly the week before graduation to honor New Directions for their nationals win. Blaine helps the glee club pull together a special performance for the occasion, while he secretly plans one of his own.

"Hello McKinley High," Figgins says into the microphone, his monotone voice ringing out through the auditorium. "Welcome to your final assembly of the year. Today we are here to honor our national champion glee club, the New Directions."

The cheering drowns him out for a second before Figgins raises his arms to silence the crowd.

"I'd also like to thank Mr. Blaine Anderson for his leadership this year, and I'm also sorry to say he will be leaving us for greener pastures. Mr. Anderson will be studying for his Ph.D. in New York in the fall. Please join me in congratulating him and wishing him well."

Figgins' smile betrays his dull tone, as he applauds with the rest of the school. Only Sue remains stoic.

Blaine hears Rachel gasp and sees Kurt's jaw fall open at the news. He clears his throat and tries to steady his voice.

"Hello, I'm Blaine Anderson, and yes, it's true. I'm leaving McKinley High after this year," he pauses and looks right at Kurt, who is waiting in the wings with the rest of New Directions to take the stage. "But first I want to sing a song for you, a song that means so much to me. I hope you know how much _you_ mean to me." He turns back to the audience. "I'm going to miss all of you so much."

Kurt's breath catches in his throat. It's obvious Blaine is talking to him, even though he's addressing the school. If Blaine is going to New York, that means he and Kurt will be in the same city. But why didn't he just say so?

And then Blaine is there, in front of him. Kurt can't speak. He moves his mouth, trying to find words, but none will come.

"Okay, guys," Blaine says. "I know you have a song prepared, but first I'm going to do this one myself. If that's okay?"

He looks right at Kurt, who still can't speak.

"Of course it's okay," Rachel says, beaming at him. "Everyone needs a farewell performance."

Blaine smiles at her, dragging his eyes away from Kurt, but the smile looks forced. He grabs some sheet music out of his bag and heads back to the stage. Blaine takes a seat at the piano and cracks his knuckles.

As the first few notes ring out, Kurt feels something clench tightly in his chest. He knows this song. He's dreamed about someone singing this song to him so many times. And now Blaine, _his_ Blaine is singing it in front of the entire school for him.

_It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside;_  
I'm not one of those who can easily hide;  
Don't have much money, but boy if I did;  
I'd buy a big house where we both could live.

Kurt doesn't even realize he's crying until the first tear rolls off his chin. He reaches up to clear his eyes. He can hardly believe this is real. Rachel reaches for his arm and pats it soothingly.

"He's singing this for you," she says.

"I know…shhh."

_I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do.  
My gift is my song and this one's for you._

By the time he gets to the chorus, Kurt has already forgiven him. Why had he even worried at all? It all seems so silly now. Blaine loves him; he loves Blaine. It's that simple.

_And you can tell everybody this is your song._  
It maybe quite simple, but now that it's done;  
I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't' mind;  
That I put down in words;  
How wonderful life is while you're in the world.

It's the next verse, though, that makes Kurt's heart soar, the part of the song that's always made him wish upon every wish he's ever had that he'd find someone who would make him feel the way this song does. And he has. It's kind of overwhelming, actually.

_So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do;_  
You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue.  
Anyway, the thing is what I really mean,  
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've seen.

When Blaine finally finishes the song, voice breaking on the last line, Kurt sees the tears shining in his eyes, and he wants nothing more than to run onto stage and kiss him senseless. To wipe away his tears. Instead he settles for infusing as much emotion as he can into his own performance.

Although to be fair, there's not much he can do with one line in "We Are the Champions."

But when Kurt sings "I've taken my bows and my curtain calls. You've brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it. I thank you all," he looks Blaine right in the eyes. Because he can't do anything else until he gets a chance to talk to him.

It's another excruciating hour until they're alone. Kurt finds Blaine alone backstage and approaches him slowly. Still unsure if Blaine wants to hear his apology.

* * *

"That was beautiful."

"Thank you," Blaine replies, not turning around in case Kurt has come to say goodbye. "It was for you, you know."

"I know."

Blaine nods, and focuses his attention on his bag, shoving papers inside and pretending to look at a few, just to keep himself occupied.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to New York?" Kurt asks softly.

Blaine stills his movements.

"I tried," he says. He lets the other part go unsaid _. You wouldn't let me._

"I know."

Kurt takes a deep breath and places a hand on Blaine's arm.

"Please look at me," he says.

Blaine turns to face him. It hurts to look at Kurt like this, when he feels so scared and lost and stupid.

"I'm sorry," Kurt says. "I should have let you explain."

"I'm sorry too, Kurt. I should have told you a while ago," Blaine says. "I wanted to surprise you. Although, in hindsight, probably not the best option."

"I'd say not," Kurt says smiling as he threads their hands together. "So New York?"

"Yes," Blaine says, looking up into Kurt's eyes. His expression is hesitant, but hopeful.

"Together."

"That's the plan," Blaine says. "If you want."

"I can't imagine it any other way," he says.

"Good," Blaine says. "Because I'm never letting you go again."

He pulls Kurt to him and kisses him softly. They're still on school grounds, and Kurt doesn't technically graduate until Saturday. Still, Blaine can't help but feel like they're in the clear.

"We still have to tell my dad you know," Kurt says.

"Oh god."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are altogether at the end. I have some stuff for the epilogue yet, most importantly that conversation with Burt. ;)


	17. Chapter 17

"I still think you should tell him first, and then I can talk to him afterwards," Blaine says, dragging his feet as he and Kurt walk up the driveway to Kurt's house.

"Oh no," Kurt says, practically pulling Blaine along behind him. "We are doing this together. We got ourselves into this mess, and we're going to face my dad like…"

Kurt stops short in the Hummels' driveway, his eyes round as saucers and his jaw dropping in silent panic.

"Kurt?"

"Oh my god," Kurt says, blinking rapidly. "He's going to kill you."

"Wow, I feel so much better now," Blaine deadpans.

"We can't do this," Kurt says, walking briskly back to Blaine's car, his breathing coming in short pants. "I thought I could do it, but I can't."

Blaine rushes to catch up to Kurt. He grabs his arm near the elbow and pulls him to a gentle stop.

"Kurt…"

"This is going to be worse than the time Mercedes lobbed a brick through the windshield of my Navigator. He must have turned about 12 shades of red yelling at me about deductibles and responsibility and how 16-year-olds shouldn't be allowed to drive. And that was just a _car_. Oh god."

Kurt doubles over and keeps repeating "oh god." Blaine would probably laugh if he wasn't also panicked about telling Burt.

"Kurt, take a deep breath," Blaine says, running his hand down Kurt's back. "We can do this."

"How?" Kurt says, his features pained as he looks up at Blaine.

"Like you said…together." Blaine smiles. He hopes he sounds more confident than he feels.

Because now that they've had a conversation about their plans for New York, Blaine needs Kurt's dad to be on board. He knows how close they are, and Kurt needs his support. Maybe Blaine does too.

Blaine holds out his hand for Kurt to take as Kurt slowly rises to standing. He grips it tighter than is absolutely necessary, but Blaine doesn't mind. It makes him feel stronger to feel Kurt's warm hand in his. He threads their fingers together and lets Kurt tug him up the driveway and through the front door.

Kurt takes a deep breath as he steps into the entryway.

"Dad?" he calls out.

"In the kitchen," he answers.

Blaine feels a tug on his hand as Kurt pulls him through the house and into the kitchen. Kurt's dad is digging through one of the cabinets, so Kurt clears his throat. Burt glances over his shoulder but doesn't notice Blaine right away.

It's probably because he's trying his best to hide behind Kurt and disappear into the wallpaper.

"Carole wanted me to make those turkey burgers you guys like for dinner, but I'm not sure I got the seasoning right. Do you use cumin?" He turns back to the cupboards, rooting through dozens of tiny bottles of various spices.

"Garlic and oregano," Kurt says, before closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. "Dad, can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure," he says, turning around and wiping his hands on a towel that's resting over his shoulder. "What's up, buddy?"

"Um…" Kurt begins, tugging on Blaine's hand.

Burt's eyes trail down Kurt's arm as he notices Blaine's fingers threaded between Kurt's. He looks up and his eyes narrow as he recognizes Blaine's face.

"Hello," Blaine says, raising a hand in a half-wave.

"Hello yourself," Burt replies, his face resembling Kurt's when he's trying to puzzle something out. "Kurt?"

"Why don't we sit down?" Blaine says, finally managing to sound like the adult he is. Or should be.

"I'd first like to know why you're standing in my kitchen holding onto my kid's hand like he's a lifeline or something," Burt says, gesturing toward them both.

Kurt steps further into the room but doesn't let go of Blaine's hand, despite the fact that Blaine tries to pull it out of his grip.

"No, Blaine," he says under his breath. "Together."

Blaine nods and relaxes as much as he can with Burt's gaze locked firmly on his face. There's a challenge there, but Blaine doesn't want confrontation, so he maintains eye contact, but tries to keep his expression friendly rather than confrontational. They're on the same side; they both love Kurt.

"Mr. Hummel," Blaine says. "I know this is going to sound crazy…"

"Try me," he says, interrupting.

"Dad," Kurt chastises. "Will you listen to us, please?"

At the sound of Kurt's voice, Burt relaxes a little and pulls his eyes from Blaine for the first time since he noticed him. He sighs.

"Okay, Kurt," he says. "You have my undivided attention. Explain."

"Will you sit?" Kurt asks.

Kurt's dad yanks the towel from his shoulder and flings it on the counter before crossing the room to take a seat at the small kitchen table. He looks expectantly at Kurt and Blaine.

Kurt rushes to take the chair closest to him and gestures for Blaine to take the one to his left. Blaine feels Mr. Hummel's eyes on him, but keeps his gaze locked on Kurt.

"I'm listening," Burt says. "Talk."

"Okay, so remember when you said I could tell you anything and you'd listen first, and ask questions later?"

Burt nods.

"I need you to do that now," Kurt says on a harsh exhale.

"Okay," he says, sounding skeptical.

"Mr. Hummel, before I say anything else, I want you to know that I have Kurt's best interests at heart. I really do," Blaine says. He suddenly feels stripped bare and more than a little bit like he's coming out to his parents all over again. He breathes slowly and tries to stop his hands from shaking.

"What Blaine's trying to say," Kurt continues, and Blaine doesn't miss the way Mr. Hummel's eyebrow quirks up at Kurt calling his teacher by his first name, "is this is a decision we made together. No one pressured me into this. If anything, I pressured him." Kurt shoots Blaine a flirtatious smirk before clearing his throat.

Blaine squeezes his hand and nods for him to continue.

"Dad, Blaine and I…" Kurt trails off for a moment, and Blaine opens his mouth to speak. But he's interrupted by Kurt's dad.

"You're together," he says plainly. "As a couple."

"Yes," Kurt says in a rush of breath.

"Mr. Hummel, I know this is a shock, but I promise you, nothing happened until after Kurt turned 18, and even then, we've been very, very careful."

Mr. Hummel glances over at Blaine and gives him an look that practically screams "I wasn't born yesterday."

"It's true, dad," Kurt interjects.

"And it all just sort of happened," Blaine says. "I didn't plan any of this, and I assure you, I didn't set out with the intent of dating your son. I swear. In fact, I tried to push my feelings aside, but there's just something about him, sir. I can't quite understand it myself sometimes, but I love him. I can't help it, but I do." He glances over at Kurt to find him smiling, and it gives Blaine courage to continue. "And, sir, we'd kind of like, well, maybe not your blessing, but maybe your seal of approval or something, because we're both going to be in New York next year and it would kill me if Kurt didn't have his father to talk to. Of course, I understand if you _don't_ approve. I just wanted to tell you my side of things because I think Kurt's amazing and I want to spend as much time as I can getting to know him and eventually maybe I'd like to marry him. Not that it's anything we've talked about yet, but he's just the most wonderful man I've ever met and…"

Kurt clears his throat, putting a stop to Blaine's rambling.

"I think he gets the idea, Blaine."

"Can I talk now?" Burt asks.

"Yes?" Kurt says, and it sounds more like a question than an answer.

"You sure about this?" Burt says, looking at Kurt finally.

"Never been more sure about anything in my life," he says, grinning at Blaine.

"Then there's not much else to say, is there?"

"Mr. Hummel…" Blaine says.

He holds up a hand to stop Blaine from speaking.

"If my kid says you're the right guy for him, I believe him. Doesn't mean I have to like it, but I trust him."

"Thanks, dad," Kurt says.

"Doesn't mean I trust you, though," he says, pointing a finger at Blaine and giving him a stern look that Blaine feels in his toes.

"Yes, dad."

"How old are you?" Mr. Hummel asks, narrowing his eyes at Blaine.

"Just turned 23, sir," Blaine replies. "So not that much older."

"And what are you going to New York for, exactly? Not just to be with Kurt, I hope."

"No sir. I'm going to get my Ph.D. at NYU…Tisch actually. In performance studies. I want to teach college, sir."

"High school didn't work out for you?" he says, not hiding his disdain.

"Quite the opposite, sir," Blaine says truthfully. "Coaching New Directions made me realize my heart was somewhere else." He pauses. "In more ways than one now that I think of it."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Kurt says and Blaine laughs.

"How can you stand me when I'm this cheesy?"

"It's a hardship, I assure you," Kurt teases.

Blaine shifts in his seat when he realizes they're flirting in front of Kurt's dad. But when he glances over at him, Blaine sees a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Where are you two planning to live?" he asks. " You might be 18, Kurt, but I'm not giving you some sort of universal go-ahead to shack up with your teacher."

"With Rachel," Kurt says at the same time Blaine says, "My uncle has an apartment in Brooklyn, sir."

"Smart," Burt says.

"Blaine's idea," Kurt says beaming proudly.

Burt sniffs.

"Well, I guess everything's in order then," he says, pushing his chair back from the table and standing. He turns just as he reaches the counter and faces them. "And Blaine?"

Blaine looks up expectantly, almost as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Yes, sir?"

"Call me Burt, will ya? Mr. Hummel was my old man."

Blaine smiles warmly and looks to Kurt who is grinning at his dad.

"Can I help you with those burgers, Burt?" Blaine says.

* * *

"And that was it?" Wes asks when Blaine finishes recounting the story to him.

"I know, right? I was expecting to be thrown bodily from the premises."

"Wow. You got the dad's permission and everything."

"It's all a bit surreal yet," Blaine says.

"But you're happy, right?" Wes asks. "No regrets?"

"Just love," Blaine replies with a laugh.

"You did _not_ just quote Katy Perry to me," Wes says. "You are the absolute biggest dork ever."

"Oh come on, you love it," Blaine says. "And consider it payback for me having to listen to you drone on about Heather's perfect boobs for the last three years."

"She does have a nice rack," Wes says. "Even you can't deny that."

"If I liked boobs, yes," Blaine says, "I'm sure I'd find hers to be quite lovely."

"Lovely? Jeez, Grandpa Blaine, how did you ever snag yourself a hot, young piece of ass."

"He's a gentleman," Blaine replies. "Unlike some people."

"Hey, I'm a gentleman," Wes says. "I just have no problem expressing myself without resorting to cheesy pop songs."

"There's nothing wrong with pop music, Wes."

"Depends on the context," Wes replies. "Sex toys in the Gap?"

"It's been almost eight years," Blaine says. "Let it go."

"I'll let it go when it stops being funny," Wes says with a laugh as he starts singing, "Baby girl, you the shit. That makes you my equivalent. You can keep your toys in the drawer tonight."

"Okay, okay…stop."

A sharp knocking at his door interrupts Wes' teasing, and Blaine offers a hasty goodbye.

"We'll talk tomorrow," Wes replies. "But I'll see you when you get into the city, okay? Later, man."

Just as Blaine ends the call, he throws open the door to reveal a very tall, very familiar tracksuit-clad figure.

"How does everyone know where I live?" Blaine wonders out loud.

"Hacked into the district's system," Sue says, looking impressed with herself as she pushes past Blaine into his tiny apartment. "I had to sleep with half the school board, but I got master passwords to everything. I just gave myself a raise. Of course that means Figgins now gets paid in Monopoly money, but I can't be bothered with details."

Blaine stares wide-eyed.

"Kidding," Sue says. "I followed you home."

"Because that's less creepy," Blaine says.

"Please, I make my living being creepy, Anderson." Sue makes herself at home on Blaine's worn sofa, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, and grins up at him. "Have a seat."

"How kind of you to invite me to sit in my own home," he says, taking the seat to her left on the sofa.

She holds up a hand and laughs.

"Ease up there, Princess Tiger Lily, I come in peace."

"Excuse me," Blaine says, unsure where she's going with this. He learned long ago not to trust Sue, not even when she appears to be in a good mood.

"I know we haven't always gotten along…"

"You've been trying to get me fired since September," Blaine interrupts.

"Just part of my charm," she says, grinning broadly.

Blaine rolls his eyes. "Hardly."

"Look, Harry Potter, I'm trying to apologize, here."

"You could start by calling me by my name," Blaine says.

"No can do. It's in my contract that I use at least three pop culturally aware nicknames per conversation."

As usual, Blaine has no clue what she's talking about. He eases himself back into the cushions and crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Look, I know I gave you a hard time this year," she says.

"To put it mildly," Blaine says.

"Oh, please, Bowties McGee, I went easy on you."

" _That_ was easy?" Blaine asks.

"Comparatively, yes," she says with a shrug.

"Did you have a point in all this?" Blaine asks. He sighs, suddenly feeling incredibly impatient.

"Porcelain."

"Kurt?" Blaine asks, still confused.

"I like that kid," she says. "God help me, but I love his sweet little elfin face and that glass-shattering lady voice of his. It's enough to make me puke kittens and rainbows for weeks." She pauses and looks thoughtful for a moment. "But he's a good kid. He deserves to be happy."

"Okay…" Blaine says when she pauses.

"What I'm trying to say is, I'm glad he's happy. With you. He needs people who care about him in his life. Even if they wear enough ridiculous-looking bow ties to make Pee Wee Herman look cool."

She looks disgusted, but Blaine is smiling because Sue cares…about Kurt. It's almost enough to make him forgive her for all her scheming and stupid nicknames over the past nine months. Almost.

"Sue Sylvester, do you actually have a heart under all those track suits?" he says, laughing. "Or did you just steal one from one of your Cheerios?"

"Very funny, Anderson. I almost considered laughing at that. But then I remembered the smell of hair gel makes me nauseous."

She stands up and straightens her jacket. When she gets to the door, she turns back to face Blaine, who is still staring after her from the sofa.

"Have a nice life," she says. "Look after Porcelain."

"I'm going to miss you too, Sue."

She gives him a single nod and turns to go. Blaine can't help but smile to himself.

* * *

After telling his dad about their relationship, it becomes more difficult for Kurt to hang out at Blaine's — Burt keeps a pretty close watch — so Blaine starts spending time at his house.

In late June Carole insists that Blaine start joining them for Friday night dinners. They keep up the tradition even when Burt is in Washington and Carole is working late. And _especially_ when Finn already has plans.

"Just give me the spatula," Kurt says, holding out his hand. "You're going to burn it."

Blaine rolls his eyes and instead of conceding, he swats playfully at Kurt's ass with it.

"Ow," Kurt says, even though it didn't really hurt. He sticks his lower lip out for emphasis.

Blaine's eyes dart down to Kurt's mouth.

"You'd better put that away," Blaine says.

"Or what?" Kurt teases as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and licks it before releasing it and drawing his lips into a smirk.

Blaine groans, actually groans, as he grabs Kurt by the waist, dropping the spatula to the counter and pulling him in close.

"Our grilled cheese is going to burn," Kurt says softly, eyes locked on Blaine's lips.

"Don't care," Blaine says, voice deep and rough. He pulls Kurt in closer, using a bit of force as he kisses him. Blaine sucks Kurt's lower lip into his mouth, causing him to gasp. Kurt's head is spinning wonderfully as he lets himself get lost in Blaine's kisses.

And Kurt suddenly realizes he's an altogether different kind of hungry.

He threads his hands through Blaine's hair in the back where the gel is coming loose. When their lips part, Kurt sighs. They're still close enough that Blaine's breath tickles his cheek.

"The things you do to me, Kurt," Blaine whispers as he nips at Kurt's ear.

Something flares up in Kurt's belly making him feel bolder than usual. He wants to strip Blaine naked right there in the kitchen and trace every inch of his body with his tongue. Work him up into a tense ball of arousal and watch him come undone.

"Let me blow you," Kurt says. His hands find the button on Blaine's pants before he can even respond with a slow, incredulous and wide-eyed nod. Kurt huffs out a frustrated breath as he fumbles a little with the zipper.

"The sandwiches!"

Blaine laughs as Kurt reaches around him to flick off the burner.

"God help us if we burn the house down for a blow job," Kurt says.

Blaine's eyes get wider because yes, this is apparently happening. But as Kurt's hands run up under his shirt, Blaine starts to get a bit nervous.

"Uh, Kurt, shouldn't we leave our clothes on?" he asks, voice wavering. "I mean I don't really need my shirt off for a blow job."

"Shh," Kurt murmurs, pulling Blaine's shirt over his head and tossing it to the ground. He quickly follows it, kneeling in front of Blaine. Kurt leans forward, hands gripping Blaine's hips as he runs his tongue over the deep, enticing V that dips down into his jeans.

Blaine groans, letting his head fall back as he reaches out to grab onto the counter behind him to hold himself up.

"God, Kurt–"

"Not actually the same person," Kurt says, smirking to himself as he places a bite to Blaine's left hip bone.

Blaine doesn't even have the blood cells to make a comment on that or smack him in the head. All he can do is thrust up and into Kurt's mouth, willing it lower.

"Pushy already?" Kurt chuckles and begins to nose lower where Blaine's erection is tenting his boxers. "Usually takes much longer than this."

Kurt breathes hotly over the bulge, watching it twitch slightly when he runs his tongue over the cotton covering it. Blaine whines, hips snapping up toward Kurt again.

Kurt just laughs and tightens his grip on Blaine's hips, taking his time to tease. He finally pushes Blaine's jeans down, tugging on them until Blaine picks up his feet and Kurt can pull them off, dropping them on the floor by his shirt.

He returns to Blaine's cock, nosing at it again and enjoying the guttural moan he drags out of Blaine. He looks up to see Blaine watching him, pupils wide and dark with lust.

"God, you want it so bad," Kurt says.

It's not a question because Kurt can see it in his eyes, and whatever hesitation was there earlier is now gone.

"Oh god yes." Blaine's voice is low and deep and it sends shivers down Kurt's spine.

"Tell me," he continues, just reaching out to graze Blaine's cock with his fingertips. Blaine shivers.

"Please, Kurt."

"Please what?"

"God, just ... please suck me," Blaine's grip on the counter tightens as Kurt immediately tugs down his boxers and wraps his lips tightly around Blaine's cock.

Blaine groans and thrusts, wanting to feel more – more heat, more Kurt, just … _more_. So Kurt lets him thrust a few more times before gripping Blaine's hips firmly and stilling his movements.

Kurt takes his time on Blaine's cock, swirling his tongue around the tip and teasing the slit before he bobs down to Blaine in deep enough that his cock bumps against the back of Kurt's throat. Then he pulls off and sucks hard on the head. He repeats the motion a few times until Blaine is panting heavily above him.

" _Christ_ , Kurt."

Blaine reaches down with one hand to run his fingers through Kurt's hair. He pulls his head in closer and begins to thrust a little. And again. And again. Kurt doesn't stop him. He just opens his mouth a bit wider, letting his jaw go slack so he can fit more of Blaine inside.

Blaine groans, his fingers tightening, and Kurt knows he's getting close. He sucks harder and begins to move his head up and down in time with Blaine's thrusts.

Kurt glances up to catch Blaine's blissed-out expression; his eyes are closed, lips slightly parted as his breath speeds up. Suddenly Blaine's eyes snap open and he taps Kurt on the shoulder.

"Was that the door?" Blaine asks.

Kurt doesn't stop, though. He didn't hear anything.

"Hey Kurt…Kurt!" Finn yells from the living room. "I brought back some ice cream. Hey, where are you?"

"Shit," Kurt says as he releases Blaine's still hard cock from his mouth. He glances up just in time to see the color drain from Blaine's face as his eyes grow wide in terror.

Kurt is on his feet in a flash, using his body to shield Blaine as best he can and using his own arms to cover his own chest just as Finn walks into the kitchen.

"Oh my god!" Finn shouts, throwing a hand over his eyes and dropping a plastic grocery bag on the floor. It makes a dull thud as the ice cream falls out and rolls into one of the cabinets.

"Jesus, Finn," Kurt says, feeling a flush color his face. "You said you were going out with the guys."

"I am," he says, eyes pressed closed tightly as he fidgets uncomfortably. "But I uh…didn't want the ice cream to melt, so I was going to drop it off before I…um…" Finn squats and gropes blindly for the bag. "Before I met up with Puck and Sam. Shit, where is it?"

"I'll take care of it, Finn," Kurt says through clenched teeth. "Why don't you get going?"

"Um, yeah…okay," he says. Finn turns so fast he stumbles a little and has to catch himself on the wall. His eyes are still pressed closed. It's more than a little ridiculous and Kurt has to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Blaine doesn't even bother to fight it. He lets out a tiny snort of laughter that tickles Kurt's back near where Blaine is pressing his face into Kurt's shoulder.

"Bye, Mr. A…I mean Blaine," Finn says, groping for the doorway as he runs into the counter instead. When he finds the door, he practically runs through the living room to exit the house. Then Kurt hears the door slam, rattling the pictures on the wall.

He turns to face Blaine, who looks as red as Kurt feels.

"I'm never going to live this down," Kurt says, dropping his head to Blaine's chest.

Blaine laughs and strokes Kurt's hair. "Look at it this way," he says, tipping Kurt's chin up with his hand. "Would you want to tell anyone you'd seen your choir teacher naked?"

Kurt giggles when he meets Blaine's smile. "From Finn's point of view, I suppose not."

"Exactly." Blaine kisses the tip of Kurt's nose.

"Although," Kurt says, smirking coyly at Blaine, " _I_ wouldn't mind talking about said teacher being naked."

" _How_ naked?" Blaine asks with a raised eyebrow.

Kurt glances down between them to take in the upper half of Blaine's body: his toned chest, a perfect smattering of dark hair that thickens as it trails downward. He looks good enough to eat.

"I'd say just about this naked," Kurt says, peppering kisses down Blaine's chest before falling to his knees again.

"I might need some convincing," Blaine says, grinning down at him.

"Mr. Anderson, are you propositioning me?" he says feigning surprise.

"You talk too much, Kurt."

"Then why don't you shut me up?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end, folks. I'm going to post the epilogue too. So that's all she wrote. It's been a pleasure.


	18. Epilogue

"Rachel, if you don't get out of that bathroom this instant, I'm coming in after you," Kurt yells through the closed door. "We're going to be late for Blaine's final performance. And so help me god, if I miss it because you couldn't decide on which kitten sweater to wear…"

Just then the door to the bathroom opens and a puff of steam follows Rachel out as she trills, "All finished, Mr. No Patience at all." She boops Kurt on the nose as she heads for her "bedroom."

"I'm going to be so glad when I don't have to share a bathroom with you anymore," he calls after her.

Rachel blows a raspberry in Kurt's direction before he slams the door to the bathroom.

Kurt sighs. He only has another week of this and then he and Blaine will be together in Blaine's apartment. No nosy, bathroom-hogging Rachel, and walls, actual walls separating the rooms. No more flimsy partitions.

If he were being completely honest with himself, Kurt might have admitted he's going to miss living with his best friend, but today, when he's already running late, and they're easily a 45-minute train ride from the theater, Kurt wouldn't dream of giving her the satisfaction.

Besides, she knows.

While Kurt showers and then meticulously styles his hair, he thinks about the last few years living in New York. He and Blaine have come a long way since sneaking around Lima during Kurt's senior year of high school.

Blaine — soon to be Dr. Anderson — will be teaching music theory and vocal performance full time starting in the fall. And Kurt is still working on his degree at NYADA, having created his own major in costume design his second semester after he realized performance wasn't where his heart is. Something Blaine had told him a long time ago. Not that he ever says, "I told you so."

Kurt still has three semesters to go, but he has a great summer internship lined up thanks to all the connections he made through Blaine's network at Tisch. And it could lead to a job if he plays his cards right. Everything's starting to fall into place.

After getting through the initial shock of finding out Kurt was dating their teacher, New Directions really got behind them. In fact, before they knew Figgins wasn't going to fire Blaine, they planned a protest and made signs to picket the principal's office. Luckily, Blaine stopped them before they egged Figgins' car.

Even Kurt's dad has grown to love Blaine. Burt still gives him grief about being older than Kurt, calling him "old man" and Mr. Anderson more often than is completely necessary, but they both know it's just Burt's way of treating him like family.

Finn and Rachel are in the off-again part of their relationship, but their breakups rarely last for long. Kurt suspects they'll be married not long after Rachel gets her first starring role on Broadway, mostly because she says it all the time.

And whenever Blaine's friends or colleagues ask how they met, Blaine always laughs and says, "It's a long story," and changes the subject by bragging: "Did you know Kurt designed the costumes for our spring showcase last year?"

It's not that he's ashamed; it's just that how they got together isn't what's important. As Kurt constantly reminds him, what's important is that they're together.

"You ready, Kurt?" Rachel calls from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Five minutes," Kurt replies. "Jeez. You had an hour!"

"Fine by me," she says. "I just thought you might not want to keep your fiancé waiting."

Kurt throws open the bathroom door. "My what?! Rachel Berry, you tell me what you know right this instant!"


End file.
